


save room for us

by hiddeninplainsight



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:42:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddeninplainsight/pseuds/hiddeninplainsight
Summary: "Tobin, what is this?"Christen's holding a black velvet box that she never wanted her to find."I can explain.""No, what is this?""What do you think it is?""I-""I was going to propose. You were it for me, and for some stupid reason I can't figure out, you stillare."--two people who walked the fine line of casual and serious for so long are at the point in their lives where it makes sense to be together, but just because it makes sense doesn't mean it's going to be easy.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 120
Kudos: 510





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello! back sooner than i intended (very much on a high from the game because tobin's goal was filthy and christen's just a literal ray of sunshine), which this story will be a little longer and a lot more complex. 
> 
> hope ya enjoy!

**(present, 2018)**

_Hi Tobin, it’s Christen. Christen Press. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen or spoken to each other. But well—well I’m back. For good. And I—uh, wanted to ask if you would like to grab a drink? Or something. To you know, catch up. So yeah…I hope to hear from you soon. Bye._

Tobin replays the voicemail, trying to process what she’s listening to because _this_ was not what she expected to wake up to.

She got back home late last night after hanging out with Kelley, Emily, and Lindsey for their monthly game night. Her and Emily kicked ass while Kelley literally tried to kick their ass, from pure frustration of losing _again_ in LCR when it was her suggestion to raise the bet to twenty dollars. She wanted to raise it to a hundred, but Lindsey kindly talked her out of it.

Her phone died early in the night, and she didn’t ask for a charger at her friend’s apartment nor did she bother to plug it in when she got home.

But when she went to charge her phone this morning and the first notification that popped up once powered back on, she never thought in a million years that _Christen Press_ would call her telling that she’s back.

_For good_.

Tobin takes a deep breath, tossing the phone next to her after listening to the voicemail for a third time.

Shaking her head, she stops herself from spiraling of all the thoughts and emotions that she locked away almost two years ago. She grabs her phone to call the one person who can talk her through this.

After the third ring, there’s an answer.

“Tobin?”

“Hey, are you free for breakfast right now?”

The person on the line yawns, “Tobin, it’s so fucking early. What the hell?”

Tobin glances at the clock on her nightstand and it’s barely past eight. “It’s not that early.”

“We were up until three,” Kelley deadpans, and Tobin can sense the irritation in her friend’s voice for disrupting her sleep.

“Can you meet for breakfast or what?” Tobin ignores the comment because she _really_ needs this.

“Fine,” Kelley yawns again. “You’re paying. Usual place?”

“Yes,” Tobin agrees without hesitation. “See you in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kelley mutters before hanging up, not giving her the chance to respond. 

Tobin doesn’t know how she feels about this, but she _knows_ how Kelley will feel about it.

And she doesn’t know which is worse.

\--

Tobin’s sitting across from Kelley, who’s currently slouching onto the table as she slowly sips her coffee, trying to fully wake up on a Sunday morning much earlier than she wanted to be after drinking with her friends and losing at least two hundred dollars at game night (but Tobin’s not going to mention that she’s paying for breakfast with her money).

The waitress comes cheerily to their table much to Kelley’s dismay, asking if they’re ready, which Kelley grumbles her order of chicken and waffles while Tobin politely asks for a breakfast burrito.

“Okay spill,” Kelley asks a few minutes after the waitress took their order. The life slowly coming back into her friend’s freckled face. “What could have possibly happened in between the time you left last night to this morning?”

“Christen’s back.”

Kelley tilts her head, waiting for Tobin to elaborate.

“For good.”

The realization crosses Kelley’s face so blatantly that Tobin has to hold in a laugh. Her friend’s face goes from shock to blank to furrowed eyebrows in less than ten seconds.

“She’s back,” Kelley says evenly, which Tobin nods. “And how do you know?”

Tobin pulls her phone out from her pocket and hands the device to Kelley to listen to the voicemail.

She watches Kelley’s face closely, looking for any clue on what her reaction is going to be. She has an idea of what it could be. Plus, she’s always been able to gauge Kelley based on her facial expressions.

However, Kelley’s face remains impassive.

Even when she taps the screen to listen to the voicemail again.

Kelley doesn’t say anything when she hands the phone back to Tobin, tucking it back in her pocket.

“So?” Tobin asks after a quick beat, trying not to seem _too_ eager to know what her friend’s thinking.

“She’s back,” Kelley shrugs, looking down at her empty cup.

“Yes, and?”

“And what Tobin?” Kelley brings her gaze back to Tobin, narrowing slightly.

“What do you think?”

“Like you care what I think,” Kelley scoffs.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean,” Kelley shrugs again, sinking into her chair. “What I think or how I feel is null and void when it comes to Christen.”

“That’s not—”

“Please. Don’t tell me it’s not. I’ve learned through the years that whatever I, Alex or Allie say, hell even _Sonnett_ , will not affect your choices in the slightest,” Kelley states frankly. “But I’ll say this much. I’m happy she’s back. I really am. Christen was one of my best friends, and to some extent, she always will be, _but_ with how everything went down… No fuck that. I can’t get on board with the idea of her and you being together because I don’t trust her. Not after that.”

“Who says we’re going to get back together? And hello, we were never actually together.”

“Please. Together, not actually together, tomato, potato,” Kelley mocks. “It’s impossible to keep you apart. You can act like you’re just friends, but it’s only a matter of time before you either kiss or fuck or both.”

Tobin doesn’t respond, nor does Kelley say anything else.

Because deep down, what Kelley’s saying is true.

She’s had a soft spot for Christen since the day they met, and sometimes (most of the time), rational thought and self-control go out the window when it involves Christen.

Their food comes and Christen isn’t mentioned again.

They talk about their game against Seattle next weekend and the dinner Allie planned with going out for drinks somewhere in the Pearl District since it’s been so long since she’s been in Portland.

They discuss their upcoming international friendlies, the first in Los Angeles, and Tobin casually suggesting to Kelley they stay a few days after to surf, which Kelley was all for.

Once they finish their food and the bill’s settled, they’re standing outside of the restaurant when Kelley says something.

“Look,” Her long-time friend starts. “I was pretty harsh back in there and I apologize for that. It’s way too early for my sass.”

“Kell—”

“Nope, I’m talking right now,” Kelley interrupts before Tobin can get a word in. “I also need to say this and I swear this will be the last thing I say, but I love you guys together. You bring out the best in each other, but with that, also the worst. I want you to be happy, I do. If you and Christen can work everything out, that’d be perfect. But please _please_ Tobin, be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt, again.”

“We’re not going to be _anything_ ,” Tobin emphasizes after she lets Kelley’s words sink in.

“You say that now,” Kelley replies.

“Okay you’re right,” Tobin’s shoulders drop. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with her. I really don’t, but she’ll always be important to me and I can’t not have her in my life especially if we’re in the same country, let alone same city.”

“I know,” Kelley sighs dejectedly, but shakes her head. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” Tobin nods her head, feeling a little lighter with how Kelley feels about the situation.

Kelley doesn’t necessarily approve, but it’ll do.

\--

It was bound to happen.

Tobin knew it was bound to happen.

Portland isn’t a big city, and the downtown area is much smaller than Chicago or San Francisco.

“Tobin?”

The soccer player looks to the direction of the voice from the shelves of craft beers she’s been standing in front of for the past five minutes, searching for the one that Kelley had in Los Angeles—some white ale.

“Christen?”

“Oh my god, hi!” Christen walks over to where Tobin’s standing, which Tobin notices that Christen doesn’t go in for the hug like she usually did, but she sees Christen’s hand go across her body. “I wasn’t sure if it was you.”

“Well it’s me,” Tobin says, rolling her eyes playfully and opens her arms. “Get over here.”

Christen’s laugh brings a warmth to Tobin’s chest as she wraps her arms around the retired soccer player, reveling in the familiar feeling of having Christen’s body close to hers.

“Hi,” Christen says softly, leaning back enough to look at Tobin.

“Hi,” Tobin smiles, which Christen returns.

They stare at each other a little while longer, so many things that need to be said, but choosing to remain silent, not wanting to ruin this honest moment of just seeing the other after _so_ long.

“So,” Christen unwraps her arms from Tobin’s waist, taking a step back. “You never called me back.”

Tobin’s mildly surprised that Christen bluntly called her out.

There’s a reason for that.

Tobin planned to call her back the same day she had breakfast with Kelley, but the two of them along with Lindsey and Emily drove out to the coast to hike the sand dunes.

She told herself that she would call her sometime that following week, but Allie and Pinoe arrived a couple days earlier before their game to have dinner and hang out since they were all going to be in Los Angeles soon after for their game against England. 

And, well, Tobin psyched herself out of calling Christen because she didn’t know what she wanted to do. Her mind was in a constant overdrive, weighing the pros and cons of… She didn’t know what she was even weighing the pros and cons for, but it was Christen.

Only Christen has this power over her.

“I’m sorry?” Tobin smiles sheepishly, and Christen rolls her eyes.

“It’s been a month since I called you.”

“I’ve been busy,” Tobin defends, and it’s not a lie.

Their soccer season is ending, which Portland is a contender to make playoffs, and there are a few more friendlies they’re obliged to play in. 

“I know, Kelley texts me almost every other day,” Christen says nonchalantly. 

“What? She has?” Tobin asks in disbelief since she had no idea her current teammate were talking.

She sees Kelley basically every day, and not once had she mentioned Christen.

“Well yeah, I didn’t just call you when I got back stateside,” Christen explains. “But I asked her if you were okay one day while we were talking on the phone since you never returned my call.”

Tobin begins to feel a little guilty about ignoring Christen. She didn’t mean to, but she’s scared to have Christen back in her life, especially with their track record.

Even as a friend, Tobin feels uneasy about the situation because as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Kelley’s right. 

It’s only a matter of time before they cross that line into something that further complicates their already complex relationship.

“I’m sorry,” Tobin says honestly, because she is.

“I know,” Christen shrugs, but smiles anyways. “But since I ran into you today, dinner some time this week?” Tobin agrees without second thought, and Christen’s smile gets wider.

Tobin smiles, and brings her attention back to the rows of beer, still looking for this damn beer.

If she shows up empty handed, Kelley will give her so much shit.

“What’re you looking for?”

“This stupid beer Kelley had in LA,” Tobin mutters, huffing after no luck.

“What’s it called?” Christen asks, leaning slightly into Tobin’s body.

“I don’t know, all I know is that it’s in a clear bottle and it’s white,” Tobin says, sighing in defeat.

“That one?” Christen points to the exact beer right in front of them.

“Son of a bitch,” Tobin says under her breath, grabbing a case before turning to Christen with an embarrassed smile. “What would I do without you?” She jokes.

Christen shrugs, looking down shyly, “I don’t want to find out.”

Tobin coughs uncomfortably at her response, bringing her other hand to rub the back of her neck, and she feels Christen take a noticeable step away from her.

“What’re you up to tonight?” Tobin asks, lazily swinging the case of beer as she turns to face Christen.

“Um,” Christen bites her lip. “Nothing really. I just came here to get food for dinner.”

“How do you feel about taking Kelley’s money?”

\--

“Oh my fucking god Press. If you fucking—son of a bitch!” Kelley yells as Christen rolls another dot, winning the round _again_.

They have been playing for the past hour, Christen winning most of the rounds and greatly upsetting Kelley with the amount of money she’s lost in such a short time. Tobin had won a couple, Emily won four, and Lindsey won one.

Kelley, on the other hand, has lost every single round.

“I hate you all,” Kelley huffs, crossing her arms in frustration and leaning back against the chair.

The girls laugh, knowing how competitive Kelley can get, especially after losing like she did the month before.

It isn’t even that late yet either.

When Tobin and Christen arrived at Kelley’s apartment, there was an initial shock to see the former striker, but it quickly went away when Kelley jumped on Christen, yelling excitedly that she was actually there.

Christen explained to Tobin on way over that her and Kelley had been talking for the past month, but their schedules didn’t sync up for them to actually see each other, which Tobin made the small comment that it would’ve been the exact same thing for her.

But Christen rolled her eyes playfully, teasing Tobin that she would’ve found a way to make it work.

(Tobin doesn’t deny it.)

They eat dinner together, courtesy of Emily cooking, where conversation flows easily between the girls, as if Christen never left.

Christen has known Emily and Lindsey since they first got their call ups for the national team, but only played with them for about a year before she hung up the boots for good.

It was a nice little reunion for them all, with a little bit of awkwardness after Kelley asked Christen why she’s back after they finished eating.

“Well, um, my mom’s sick,” Christen says as they sit around the table, letting the food settle in their stomachs.

Tobin had no idea, and by the looks on everyone else’s face, they didn’t know either.

“Shit,” Kelley stands up from her seat, walking over to hug Christen from the back. “I’m sorry, Chris. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” Christen says nervously. “It is. They caught it early enough and she’s in remission. So I wanted to be closer to my family instead of traveling over a body of water.”

“But why Portland? Couldn’t you work in Los Angeles?” Lindsey asks.

Christen glances at Tobin before answering, “I could’ve, yeah. But I was offered to be the general manager of the team.”

“Wait what? You’re our general manager?” Kelley’s jaw drops, and Tobin wants to reach over to close her friend’s mouth.

“Yeah, I will be,” Christen says shyly. “The men’s team too.”

“That’s so cool!” Emily pipes up. “That means we get to see you pretty much all the time right?”

Christen laughs, but nods. “You’ll see me if you want to. I’ll definitely be at all the home games, some away games, but for the most part, you can find me in the offices.”

“How come we didn’t hear about this?” Lindsay asks, slightly confused because there definitely would’ve been an announcement, or at least rumors circulating. 

“It’s not official yet,” Christen explains. “I’ll start when the season’s over to prep for next. I’m also getting settled in Portland along with finishing stuff up for Grassroots Soccer and doing a little bit of consulting for the US Soccer Federation. So I might actually be traveling with you guys for the friendlies scheduled, Philadelphia and Chicago for sure. Not entirely sure about Minneapolis or Charlotte yet.” 

Tobin doesn’t miss the knowing look Kelley gives her across the table, but she shakes her head.

She doesn’t want to get into _that_ here.

“That’s exciting, can’t wait to go back to Chicago for the game with you! Isn’t that like one of your favorite cities?” Emily asks, not realizing the magnitude of the question.

Christen gives a small smile, staring at Tobin, because only Tobin knows why Chicago has a special place in her heart, and says softly, “Yeah, it is.”

After that somewhat heavy conversation, the group switches to a more light-hearted competition. They clear the table of the plates and leftovers to set up for LCR.

“I think I’m going to call it,” Christen says, sweeping the chips towards her little pile and calculating how much she won from this round—$300—totaling to $500 for the whole night. “Probably the easiest I’ve ever made this much in such a short time.”

Kelly huffs _again_ , “Whatever.”

“You’re the one that wanted to up this round to twenty-five dollars per chip,” Tobin comments, putting the chips and die in the little container.

“Well I thought I’d win,” Kelley sticks her tongue out while Tobin reaches over to pull on it, but the defender is quick before she can touch it.

Lindsey and Emily laugh at their antics, standing up from the table to clean up the empty bowls and glasses.

“Oh let me help,” Christen offers, making a move to stand, but is immediately pushed back down by Emily as she walks by.

“Nope, you’re the guest! And our soon-to-be general manager, you aren’t lifting a finger in this household,” Emily states, balancing the bowls, and adds, “Well at least for tonight. Depends on how much you’re here, then I might have to put you on clean up duty.”

Emily doesn’t give Christen the chance to reply, following Lindsey into the kitchen.

Tobin stands, raising her arms above her head to stretch her back. It’s been annoying her for the past week, likely overextending during a kick or something, so she’s been taking it easy.

Playoffs are around the corner and it doesn’t help that they have to get pulled for national team duties, which can make it hard to focus on the league itself.

“I’m gonna head out,” Tobin yawns, not realizing how tired she actually is.

Christen imitates Tobin, standing up and nodding her head, “I’ll walk out with you.”

Kelley looks between them, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Tobin. When they lock eyes, Tobin shakes her head, silently conveying that _absolutely_ nothing is going to happen.

Her friend doesn’t believe her, but shrugs.

The two women bid their goodbyes to the occupants of the apartment. Christen almost getting toppled over by Emily because she was just so excited to see her and it had _been way too long_.

“See ya soon Chris,” Kelley hugs Christen while Tobin opens the apartment door. “Sonny’s right. It has been way too long.”

“Well I’m here to stay,” Christen says, rubbing her hands up and down Kelley’s back.

“I hope so,” Kelley mumbles. She pulls away from Christen and looks at Tobin. “I’ll see you on Monday. Thanks for the beer by the way.”

“Beer you didn’t even drink,” Tobin mutters, but grins.

“None of us were drinking tonight,” Kelley raises her hands in defense. “I didn’t want to be the only one.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tobin waves dismissively. “Ready Chris?”

Christen nods and says goodbye to Kelley once more, thanking her again for letting her crash game night.

Tobin lets Christen walk in front of her to the elevators, watching her playfully kick the elevator button. They stand next to each other, waiting patiently for the elevator to arrive.

Christen’s leaning a little into Tobin, and it’s taking everything in her to not wrap an arm around the former soccer player.

Affection has always been natural between them.

Both of them did it and they never realized they were doing it until someone pointed it out.

There was always a compulsion for them to be physically close if they were in the same room.

Before Tobin could give in, the elevator arrives and Tobin silently thanks the timing. She waits for Christen to walk in first, following her in and leaning against the back wall. Christen pushes the ground floor button and the elevator slowly descends.

It’s a comfortable silence with the deep house music playing lowly in the background.

Tobin notices Christen bobbing her head to the beat, making her smile at how adorable she looks.

“What’re you smiling at?” Christen breaks the silence.

Tobin smiles sheepishly, realizing she was caught admiring the woman next to her. “You.” She replies honestly because there’s no reason for her to lie.

“What I do?” Christen smiles back, turning her body to face Tobin completely.

“You’re just adorable,” Tobin says, making Christen chuckle.

“Well thanks, I’m doing my best out here,” Christen smiles cheekily.

“Where do you live?” Tobin asks once the elevator doors open.

“Near NW 23rd, closer to the Levi’s store,” Christen answers as they walk out together.

“What? No way,” Tobin stops in the lobby.

“Yeah? Why?” Christen asks confused.

“That’s a few blocks from where I live,” Tobin clarifies. “Wanna share an Uber to your place?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Christen challenges, raising an eyebrow. “Wanna get ice cream? There’s a Salt and Straw nearby.”

How could Tobin say no?

\--

Once their car drops them off, there’s a small line outside of the ice cream shop. Tobin shrugs when Christen looks at her, not caring they have to wait a little.

She’s tired, but tomorrow’s a hard chill day, so if she stays out a little later than she intended to, she can sleep the morning away.

They fall in line, quietly talking about anything and everything that crosses their mind.

Christen vents to Tobin about the hassle of moving and the struggle of still not having internet set up in her apartment, that she’s already a regular at the coffee shop down the street. Tobin offers up her condo if Christen doesn’t want to spend money for coffee and is more than welcome to use her coffee maker.

Tobin opens up a bit about how she’s been struggling more than she’d care to admit this season, and the international friendlies they have scheduled isn’t helping her focus either. Christen reassures that it’s okay for her to not always be a hundred percent and to just take a moment to breathe every once in a while, reminding her that she plays because she loves the sport, and she can’t imagine doing anything else.

Conversation comes easy for the two, picking up as if there was never a time in their lives where they _didn’t_ talk.

Their conversation makes the line go by so much faster than they’re already at the bar, ordering what they want, but not without Christen trying every flavor since it’s been so long (even though Tobin’s pretty sure she knows what she’s going to get).

“Hmmm,” Christen hums as she plays with the spoon in her mouth, looking at the menu to decide which flavor she likes best.

While Christen contemplates, Tobin orders, “Can I get a single scoop of the rocky road one in a waffle cone please?”

The employee nods politely as he gets Tobin’s order ready.

Tobin sees Christen still trying to decide, and she shakes her head, making the executive decision to order _for_ her.

“Also, can I get a single scoop of the mint chocolate chip for this one?” Tobin gestures to Christen who squints at her in confusion. “In a cup please?”

“Sure, no problem,” The employee says, handing the cone to Tobin as he starts to prepare Christen’s.

“Hey,” Christen whines, pulling on Tobin’s sleeve, as they take small steps to the register. “Why’d you do that?”

“Chris,” Tobin says in between licks. “Don’t act like that’s not the one you wanted.”

“You don’t know that!” Christen argues, as the employee hands her the cup. She lets go of Tobin’s sleeve, using the spoon to take a bite. Tobin sees the look of delight cross Christen’s face as soon as the ice cream connects with her mouth. Her eye’s nearly roll back as she sighs into the bite. “Fine,” Christen says. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Tobin states, pulling her wallet out to pay for their ice cream.

“Wait what’re you doing?” Christen asks when Tobin hands over her debit card to the cashier, fumbling for her wallet in her purse. 

“I’m paying,” Tobin shrugs, and thanks the cashier once her card is handed back to her.

“You two are so cute,” The cashier says, smiling at them brightly.

Tobin coughs, smiling awkwardly while Christen takes the comment in stride, saying, “Thanks!”

The two women walk out of the shop, Christen pulling Tobin into the direction of her building. They enjoy their ice creams with Christen’s arm lazily looped with Tobin’s.

It’s comfortable.

It’s natural.

It’s effortless.

Tobin can’t shake the nagging feeling in her gut about how it isn’t a good idea to fall so easily back into _this_ —whatever _this_ is. She can’t let on what she’s thinking or feeling because Christen can pick up on her subtle tells when she’s in her head.

They’re definitely not at the point where they can unpack and have an honest conversation about what happened, let alone try to figure out what they’re doing _now_.

Because if Tobin’s being completely honest, she still doesn’t know, and the only thing she does know is that she can’t stay away from Christen, no matter how hard she tries.

They make small talk about the stuff they see on their walk, Tobin pointing out restaurants she likes and telling Christen that they’ll try it out sometime, likely in the off-season when they aren’t too busy.

They stand outside Christen’s apartment building, facing each other, and Tobin realizes just how close Christen lives to her and tells her so.

“Really?” Christen asks, not fully believing her as she holds the empty ice cream cup.

“Yeah,” Tobin smiles sheepishly. “I’m like four blocks down, right across the stadium.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know that,” Christen says, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe I will come by for the internet and free coffee.”

“Mi casa es su casa,” Tobin says in her forced Spanish accent, laughing at how wrong it sounds coming out of her mouth, which Christen does the same.

“So…” Christen trails off, staring at Tobin.

“So…”

“This is me,” Christen tilts her head to the building they’re standing outside of.

“I know,” Tobin smiles. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Maybe tomorrow morning? I have a few things I need to do for work,” Christen says shyly, looking down as if she’s embarrassed to ask.

“Whenever Chris,” Tobin reassures, bringing her hand up to rub Christen’s arm lightly. “Tomorrow’s my hard chill day by the way, so I’ll likely just be existing.”

“Oh no,” Christen mocks, bringing her free hand to her chest. “How will I ever keep myself entertained?”

Tobin shakes her head, laughing at Christen’s teasing.

They smile at each other, not entirely ready to say goodbye, but it’s late and Tobin _really_ should leave (because she’d say yes if Christen asked her to stay).

Tobin’s hand is still on Christen’s arm, but it’s not moving and it’s just _there_.

It’s Christen who breaks their trance, stepping forward to wrap her arms around Tobin’s midsection, and Tobin naturally brings her own arms around Christen’s shoulders, hugging her tightly.

“It was really nice to see you,” Christen mumbles against Tobin’s neck, and Tobin squeezes tighter.

“It was,” Tobin says softly. “Don’t be a stranger okay?”

Tobin feels Christen nod, and the green-eyed woman leans back to look straight into Tobin’s eyes.

“I won’t,” Christen states firmly, and Tobin can _see_ just how much the woman in her arms _means_ it.

The conviction at which Christen says it _almost_ makes Tobin kiss her, but she shows a little bit more control and she swears Christen leans in closer.

But nothing happens.

Christen’s out of Tobin’s arms and they say goodbye one more time, Tobin waiting until Christen is completely inside the building, waving once the door shuts behind her.

Tobin turns to walk towards her apartment, lazily putting her hands in her pockets as she reflects on tonight’s turn of events.

She feels lighter.

Happier even.

Christen’s presence in her life had _always_ been good, but that doesn’t mean it was always _easy_.

The problem is that she doesn’t know how long she can fight what she feels before she gives in.


	2. 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, cranked this chapter out before i head down to la. i also realized how much of a slow burn this is going to be lol 
> 
> hope you enjoy!

**(past, 2009)**

Tobin stares at the girl across the field as she _fires_ the ball into the net, the goalie unable to react fast enough.

“Hey,” Tobin slightly turns her head, calling to Whitney and Ashlyn stretching beside her. “Who’s that?” She points to the girl who curves the ball perfectly to the upper right corner.

“Her?” Whitney stands up to get a better look, tilting her head. “That’s Christen, Christen Press.”

“Sheesh,” Ashlyn comments as they watch the girl in question kick the ball from way past the goal box, the ball finding the back of the net _again_.

“How come I’ve never seen her?” Tobin asks, completely in awe by this girl’s technique.

“Well, I think she recently got called up to the youth team,” Whitney explains, scratching her head, trying to remember. “But I’m not entirely sure. Ask O’Hara.”

Tobin searches the field for her friend who she’s known since she was sixteen, sees her tying her laces. Kelley looks up like she knew she was being watched, and waves, tucking the laces into her cleats and stands up, doing a little stretch before she starts jogging towards them.

Kelley should be warming up with her team, not making her way across the field to talk to players from the opposing team.

It is the championship game after all.

“You guys ready to lose?” Kelley puffs her chest, trying to intimidate the girls, who start laughing.

Ashlyn playfully shoves Kelley, who exaggerates the push and stumbles backwards dramatically, “That wasn’t even that hard!”

“I could’ve hurt myself. Before the game mind you. Do you know how much Paul would kick my ass for the last game of my collegiate career?” Kelley sticks her tongue out.

“Why are you even over here? Shouldn’t you be with your team?” Whitney asks.

“I caught Tobin staring at me, so I wanted to say hello,” Kelley shrugs. “And why are you looking at me anyways? Miss my beautiful face? I know it’s been a while.” She makes kissy noises.

“No,” Tobin says flatly.

“She wants to know about Press,” Tobin pushes her teammate. “Ow, what the hell. You asked.” Whitney rubs the spot on her arm. “Whatever, I’m gonna go run a lap. Good luck Kell.” Whitney leaves them, waving dismissively.

“Chris? What do you wanna know about her?” Kelley crosses her arms.

“Nothing!” Tobin says a little too quickly. “Nothing,” She repeats slower this time.

“We were just watching her shoot and damn,” Ashlyn whistles.

Kelley smiles proudly, “Yeah that’s our striker for ya. Takes another 100 shots _after_ practice though, kinda intense.”

“Holy shit. Kinda? How does she even find the energy to do that?” Ashlyn beats Tobin to asking.

“No idea,” Kelley shrugs. “She’s super hard on herself, so I try my best to make sure she has fun and a life _outside_ of soccer. But stubborn as hell, so it’s hard sometimes.”

Tobin hums at what Kelley says, watching Christen dribble the ball before launching it straight into the goalkeeper’s chest, and the force of the kick has the goalkeeper stumbling a little.

Ashlyn and Kelley get into a conversation about any plans after the game, which Tobin vaguely overhears something about a party in someone’s suite since both teams are conveniently staying at the same hotel, but Tobin’s too engrossed with watching Christen.

She’s watched people at different levels throughout her career.

And Christen’s _good_.

Like really good.

Like national team level good.

So Tobin’s stumped as to why she’s never seen Christen get a call up to any of the national team training camps because it’s clear as day that she deserves it.

“Yo Tobs,” Tobin brings her attention back to her friends who are looking at her peculiarly. “Got a little crush do ya?” Ashlyn teases.

“I do not,” Tobin shakes her head, not wanting to talk about that. She’s not going to act like Christen _isn’t_ pretty either. She has eyes and may find her attractive, but that’s besides the point. “She’s just... really good. How come I’ve never seen her at camps Kell?”

“She’s on the youth-20 team,” Kelley informs them, which isn’t bad, but based on what Tobin’s seeing alone, she seems far too advanced for that.

“But why not the national team? You know, like us,” Tobin gestures between them.

“No idea,” Kelley shrugs. “I know she wants to make the national team, but don’t we all?”

“We are on the national team Kelley,” Ashlyn rolls her eyes, bringing her arm behind her head to stretch.

“Eh,” Kelley shrugs again. “Not sure. I’m sure she’ll make it at one point, just has to be given the chance.” Someone across the field is yelling Kelley’s name, the three of them turning to the owner of the voice, and it’s Christen, waving her over. “Guess I gotta go. I’ll see ya both after. Good luck y’all, I’m not going easy on you.” She smirks before running off.

“She’s cute,” Ashlyn says thoughtfully as Tobin kicks the ball next to her up to juggle.

“Yeah, she is,” Tobin says absentmindedly, but misses the grin form on Ashlyn’s face as she focuses on juggling the ball along different parts of her leg. 

\--

UNC wins another NCAA title.

1-0.

Kelley receives her second yellow card at the 78th minute of the game, ejecting her from her last collegiate career game.

Stanford scores _twice_ , but both goals are disallowed for being offsides.

Christen finds the back of the net at the 89th minute, playing with one less player, and when the second goal gets ruled offsides, Tobin can’t believe it.

The irony in that whole play is that Tobin, who usually can pick the ball from players if they’re close enough, lets Christen go by her.

It isn’t on purpose, because if it was, her team would tease her for getting easily distracted by a pretty girl (not that that happens a lot, but she won’t admit that it does happen).

But the speed at which Christen runs, dumbfounds her because she has _never_ seen anyone _that_ fast, and definitely not with a ball at their feet.

Tobin just stops, and watches Christen zoom the ball by her and her other teammates, blocking out the yelling and cheering from the players, the coaches, and the crowd.

She’s honestly amazed and she doesn’t know if she should be intimidated or turned on by how good she is (Christen being pretty is a bonus), most likely a little bit of both.

Tobin’s stomach drops when she sees Christen launch the ball at the box, Ashlyn can’t react quick enough and Stanford’s on the board with the equalizer. But the referees disallow the goal, ruling it offsides, when she _knows_ for a fact it wasn’t because Whitney was right _there_.

Tobin stares at Christen, witnessing so many emotions cross her face and her jaw clenching, shaking her head in disbelief.

It doesn’t go unnoticed, but Tobin sees Christen’s eyes get glossy as she jogs by her to stand at the center circle with three minutes of extra time.

None of the Stanford players are able to score again.

The final whistle gets blown and her teammates are running onto the field, cheering about winning another championship. A few of her teammates jump on her, which she nods her head in acknowledgement that they won, but her focus is directed somewhere entirely else.

At Christen, who’s sitting on the wet grass with her head in between her knees, and sees her body visibly shake.

Tobin disentangles from the team huddle, making her way to Christen, shaking the hands of other players she passes by.

Once Tobin makes it Christen, she doesn’t know what to do nor does Christen look up. She wants to say something, anything, but she doesn’t want to come across as rubbing the win in her face.

Tobin does the first thing that comes to mind, sitting down across the girl who’s staring blankly at the ground.

After a couple minutes of silence between the two with the noise of the crowd around them, Tobin’s the first one to speak.

“Good game,” Tobin says softly, but loud enough for Christen to hear.

Christen doesn’t say anything right away, and Tobin’s not going to pressure her as she patiently sits, scanning the field to see her teammates cheering and a few of the Stanford players sitting on the bench with solemn looks on their faces. Kelley’s crying into one of her teammate’s shoulder, and Tobin knows they’ll talk later.

“Thanks,” Christen’s voice snaps her attention back.

It comes out shaky and Tobin doesn’t have to look closely to confirm that Christen’s crying.

“No seriously, it was a good game,” Tobin says, fixing her gaze onto Christen’s face, fully taking the girl’s features in.

Tobin can appreciate beauty and the different forms it takes. Physical beauty is its own category that she doesn’t like to comment on because she knows that there’s a lot more to a person than their looks.

She’s seen beautiful people from all parts of the world, but there’s something about Christen that’s different.

Christen has a certain _je ne sais quoi_ that Tobin can’t put her finger on and it’s daunting, magnetic even, that she’s catching herself staring even as they’re soaked from the rain, hair messy with grass stains all over their uniforms.

“Not good enough,” Tobin hears Christen mutter bitterly, breaking her out of her trance to the piercing green eyes staring directly into hers.

“I’m not talking about the game. That’s irrelevant now. I’m talking about you. You played really well.”

“It wasn’t my best if we didn’t win,” Christen says sharply, causing Tobin to flinch a little at her tone.

Tobin rolls her eyes, not wanting to let Christen’s mood bring her down from her team winning, and pushes herself up, “Okay, whatever. Good game Christen.”

She turns to jog back to her team, opening their arms once they see their midfielder appear, leaving Christen alone on the ground, not knowing that the Stanford player was watching her the whole time.

\--

“I think I’m going to take a walk,” Tobin puts the almost empty red cup onto the table next to her.

One of Tobin’s teammates volunteered their suite to host a party for the team along with an open invitation to any of the Stanford players, if they wanted to join. Most of the Stanford players showed up, with an exception of a couple people (Tobin immediately noticed that Christen wasn’t there, but kept that to herself).

It’s been pleasant socializing with the opposing team because at the end of the day, the game was just a game that had to be played, and there’s other things in the world besides soccer. It’s also the end of a lot of the players’ collegiate careers—Tobin, Whitney, Ashlyn, and Kelley to name a few. The four of them planning to play professionally once they graduate.

Some players snuck out to the liquor store near the hotel to pick up a couple bottles of alcohol and a few cases of beer to include everyone instead of heading to the bar down the road.

Naturally, they’ve been drinking, some more than others.

Tobin’s drank enough for a nice buzz to set in, but is still completely aware of what’s happening around her.

“Where ya going?” Kelley slurs out next to her, the effects of the alcohol becoming more and more apparent, especially since Tobin walked into the room with Kelley taking two shots of some cheap tequila one after the other.

“Just for a walk, it’s getting a bit stuffy in here,” Tobin stands up, shaking her top because her body feels warm even with the air conditioning blasting.

“Alright, see ya later,” Kelley waves lazily while bringing her attention back to the conversation with Whitney about what their plans over winter break.

Tobin slips out of the suite without anyone noticing, walking towards the elevator to head to the lobby.

She was starting to feel suffocated in the room, not because she didn’t like the people because she’s a people person, she enjoys talking to people and listening to their thoughts and opinions.

A lot of them were talking about life after college. Things that included working at a desk job, going back to school for further education, getting married, having kids, buying a house—all things that Tobin’s never put much thought in. 

It’s not that those things have never crossed her mind because they have, but the only thing Tobin can confidently say she sees in her future is soccer. Playing soccer professionally, at the club and international level. She’s thought about even playing soccer overseas, somewhere in Europe to learn the game in a whole new light.

All those things that the other players were talking about will happen to her at one point, she knows it will, but she doesn’t want that for herself _now_ , nor has she met someone that makes her feel ready to build a life like that with yet.

It’ll happen, and she’s in no rush.

Soccer is her life right now and until she meets someone who tilts her world on its axis, it’ll be her life.

Once Tobin makes it to the lobby, she walks around with no clear destination in mind. Though, when she passes the outdoor swimming pool, she sees a familiar face sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water.

Going against her better judgment, Tobin exits through the doors to get to the pool.

The sound of the door closing brings the attention of the person sitting on the pool to look up. Tobin stops walking as soon as she’s seen, but the person doesn’t say anything, shrugging and continues to slosh the water back and forth.

Tobin takes it as a sign to keep walking, while noticing a small half-empty bottle of alcohol on the other side.

“May I?” Tobin asks, pointing to the space next to Christen.

“Sure,” Christen replies quietly, not making eye contact.

Tobin sits next to Christen while leaving enough space where she doesn’t feel like she’s crowding the Stanford player, dipping her feet in the water too, the coldness sending a slight shiver up her spine. She leans back on her hands, taking in the clear night sky after a day full of rain.

“I’m sorry,” Christen says after a few minutes of them just being in each other’s presence.

“For what?” Tobin tilts her head to see Christen looking at the pool.

“For earlier. It was completely rude of me to talk to you like that,” Christen explains in a small voice.

“Eh,” Tobin shrugs. “Not a big deal. It happens.”

“But I don’t know you.”

“And I don’t know you, so let’s call it even,” Tobin offers, and Christen turns her head to look at her.

“You know my name,” Christen raises an eyebrow.

“Well,” Tobin coughs awkwardly, because she hoped Christen wouldn’t have been paying that close attention. “I asked Kelley about you.”

“What? Why?” Christen’s eyes widen.

“Honestly?” Tobin pauses, and Christen waits for her to continue. “I saw you during warmups and was wondering why I’ve never seen you at any national team camps,” Tobin says, bringing one hand up, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Oh,” Christen says dejectedly. “I’m on the youth-20 team if that counts for anything.”

“It does,” Tobin reassures. “But you’re, like, _really_ good and I’m just amazed by how good you are. You’re also insanely fast.”

“Thanks,” Christen says shyly, looking away with a small smile forming from the compliment. “Maybe I’ll play on the national team, I don’t really know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that, I don’t know,” Christen shrugs, looking up at the sky. “It’s just I never saw myself playing soccer professionally. But then I met Kelley who’s played for the national team and she makes me believe that I could.”

“I think you could,” Tobin says honestly. “And if you do, I’ll be there too.”

“What?” Christen looks back at Tobin with a stunned expression. “You’ve played for the team too?”

Tobin smirks, “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because you’re just seem so nonchalant about everything and I obviously saw you play during the game, which you’re really good and I can see why you’d be on the team,” Christen explains. “I also didn’t expect you to sit out here with me, when there’s a party going on.”

Tobin chuckles at Christen, scooting a little closer and Christen doesn’t say anything nor does she move away.

If Tobin’s being honest, she’s having more fun sitting outside with Christen than celebrating the win with her teammates.

“It’s fine, I’m having more fun out here,” Tobin nudges her shoulder playfully against Christen’s. “And thanks. I’m sure you’ll get your chance, I just know it.”

Christen smiles and grabs the bottle next to her, offering the whiskey to Tobin, “So let’s get to know each other.”

“I’m Tobin, by the way.”

\--

They pass the bottle back and forth through a conversation they easily find themselves lost in.

Tobin learns about Christen who grew up in a coastal suburb in southern California with her two sisters. She also finds out that Christen played tennis and did track and field too. She discovers trivial facts about her too like favorite color, food, music—anything that comes to mind.

Christen recounts a story about how her mom put her in soccer when she was a kid, but in her first year, she didn’t actually play. She liked to make flower crowns and put on little shows for her mom while keeping in line with the ball. Her mom gave her one more year to see if she’d like the sport and in the season opener, she ran for the ball and scored her first goal—the rest was history.

Tobin talks about herself (something she doesn’t really like doing, but with Christen, it’s easy and doesn’t feel forced), growing up in New Jersey with her three siblings and playing soccer for as long as she could remember while explaining that soccer’s her first and only love, and that she’s not sure anything or anyone else could ever compare.

Tobin also confesses that she wandered away from the party because of how everyone was talking about the future and life after graduation.

“What’s wrong with that?” Christen asks, after taking a small sip.

They’re sitting much closer than when Tobin first walked out, their shoulders touching with Christen leaning into Tobin.

They’re also pleasantly buzzed, genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

Tobin’s thoughts are straying away from her because all she keeps coming back to is how pretty Christen looks in the moonlight and wonders what it’d be like to kiss her.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, realizing she hasn’t answered Christen’s question, “Well I don’t know. The future’s scary to think about like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Buying a house, getting married, having 2.5 kids, all that stuff,” Tobin says.

“Do you want that for yourself?” Christen asks, and Tobin notices how green Christen’s eyes are.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Tobin shrugs. “But I do want to keep playing soccer.”

“Then do that,” Christen says simply. “Whenever you meet someone who makes you think about that stuff, I think that’s when you’ll know.”

Tobin doesn’t say anything, taking in all of what Christen said because she’s right. The only thing Tobin wants _now_ is to play soccer and that’s what she’ll do because she’s that confident in herself to succeed.

“Let’s go swimming,” Christen says after a moment of silence.

“What? We don’t have bathing suits on,” Tobin glances down, seeing that Christen’s wearing running shorts and an old shirt while she’s wearing soccer shorts and a hoodie.

“So what? Come on,” Christen elbows Tobin gently. “Don’t be a wuss. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take my top off.”

“You’ll—what’re you doing?” Tobin gulps when she sees Christen bring her hands down to the hem of her shirt.

Christen doesn’t respond, instead pulling the shirt overheard to reveal a black sports bra and tossing the shirt on one of the pool chairs. Her eyes narrow teasingly at Tobin who’s staring at her, mouth slightly open at the forward’s spontaneity.

“Come on,” Christen murmurs, leaning slightly into Tobin, bringing a hand up to play with the string on Tobin’s sweater.

“I—fuck okay, okay,” Tobin relents, creating some space between her and Christen because she’s all too hot from _whatever_ is happening.

Tobin hurriedly pulls the sweater over her head, taking the shirt along with her, all while Christen’s smirking, leaving the both of them in shorts and sports bras.

“And see ya!” Christen pushes Tobin into the pool as soon as the sweater is thrown to the side, catching the midfielder off guard.

The water’s _freezing_ and Tobin lets out a yelp as soon as her whole body goes under. She quickly comes back up, shivering slightly when she takes the first breath. She hears Christen laughing, and she should be annoyed with her, but the sound of her laugh is infectious, causing her to start laughing.

“That was gold,” Christen says in between breaths, laughing too hard that Tobin sees her holding her stomach.

“Yeah yeah,” Tobin sputters the water that got in her mouth. “Come in already,” Tobin reaches to pull on Christen’s leg.

“It’s only fair,” Christen smiles, scooting herself to gracefully slip into the water and shaking a little bit. “It’s cold.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Tobin says, leaning backwards to float on her back.

“Whatever,” Christen mutters, making splashing sounds that Tobin feels the droplets on her face.

“Quit it,” Tobin says, tilting her head to Christen sticking her tongue out at her.

“Make me,” Christen taunts, swimming away.

Tobin takes the challenge and swims after Christen, who squeals when Tobin reaches her. The UNC player wraps her arms around Christen’s midsection, pulling her in and Christen’s arms automatically go around her neck.

They look at each other with soft smiles and quiet chuckles.

They’ve had more than enough to drink and are a little more than tipsy, the empty bottle laying on the concrete.

Tobin feels her heart pounding in her chest as she stares at Christen, and she swears that her smile makes the butterflies in her stomach more apparent.

“Hi,” Christen sighs, her fingers gently running up and down Tobin’s neck.

The gesture is sending shivers down Tobin’s spine and she replies softly, “Hi.”

“You know,” Christen starts, and Tobin squeezes her sides gently. “You’re pretty great.”

“I know that,” Tobin says cockily, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh shut up,” The forward rolls her eyes, but smiles anyways.

They don’t say anything more, staring at each other and Tobin _really_ wants to kiss her right now.

“Can I kiss you?” Tobin blurts out, mentally cursing at herself for being so straightforward.

“If you weren’t going to ask, I was just going to do it anyways,” Christen says softly, leaning in with a small smile. 

Tobin leans in to meet her, and their lips _barely_ touch before—

“Hey!” A voice has them separating so fast.

They look to the source of the voice and see a hotel employee shining a flashlight from the doors.

“The pool’s closed. You can’t be here,” He informs.

“Sorry!” Tobin replies, shielding Christen from the light. “We’ll leave right now.”

“No problem,” He waves the light at them one more time before shutting it off, turning to walk back into the hotel.

Tobin turns to see Christen slightly flushed, likely from getting caught, but she can’t help but think that maybe it also has to do with their somewhat kiss. They make eye contact and laugh, Christen shaking her head and Tobin smirking.

“Walk me to my room?”

\--

They find clean towels that minimizes the amount of water dripping onto the hotel’s carpet as they walk back to Christen’s room.

They’re giggling quietly and bumping shoulders, and Tobin realizes she doesn’t know when she’ll see Christen next, or if she’ll ever see her again. The thought saddens her slightly, but she’s with her right now and that somewhat makes up for it.

Tobin just doesn’t want this to end.

“So this is me,” Christen says, pulling the keycard out of her pocket as they stand in front of her room door.

“This is you,” Tobin repeats, facing Christen as she fiddles with the card, wrapped in her towel.

“Keep in touch?” Christen offers, recognizing that this might be the last time she actually sees Tobin.

“I’m sure I’ll see you on the national team,” Tobin says confidently, and Christen beams.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Tobin smiles.

Still a bit drunk with the alcohol giving her the confidence she needs to do, Tobin takes a small step forward, and leans to kiss Christen gently on the cheek. “Good night Christen,” She takes a step back and Christen brings her hand up to where she kissed her, smiling softly.

“Good night Tobin.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all enjoyed! see ya in the next chapter. 
> 
> ps: christen press hat trick 
> 
> pps: thank you for reading :)


	3. 2010

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya, it's been a while. hope ya enjoy!

**(past, 2010)**

Tobin patiently waits outside the door of Kelley’s townhouse, which is weird because Kelley never locks her door. She has always had an open door policy, welcoming literally anyone in, and even at hotels, Kelley props the door open for people to come and go as they please until it’s lights out or one of the coaches has to physically lock the door themselves.

Tobin yawns, having flown in from New Jersey after spending a couple weeks with her family. It’s always nice seeing them, especially with the rare opportunities she can, she makes the most of it.

Flying should be something she’s used to with all the traveling she did in college and when she’s called up for any national team camps or games, but it still gets draining.

She only came to celebrate her friend’s birthday and the fact that they were drafted into professional teams. Kelley was chosen by a team located in the Bay Area while Tobin gets the opportunity to play in her home state—something she’s very grateful for since her sisters are starting to have kids and she wants to be the best aunt out there.

The door swings open to reveal Kelley holding a chipped wine glass with a crooked grin, the sound of cheering and clapping behind her.

“Tobinho!” Kelley says loud enough that Tobin cringes.

Kelley’s drunk, and her yelling isn’t what’s giving her away, even though that’s always been a good indicator. Her face is flushed and her eyes look like they’re ready to close at any moment, but Tobin can tell she’s fighting to stay awake.

It’s barely into the evening, and Tobin has no idea what time she started drinking, but by the way she’s swaying as she leans against the door, it was _early_.

“Happy birthday Kell.”

“Thank you!” Kelley yells as if Tobin’s not standing a less than two feet away from her, opening the door wider. “Come on in! Pressi locked the door when she got home, she never likes it when I leave the door unlocked.”

Kelley practically pulls Tobin in, who has her duffel bag slung over her shoulders, shutting the door behind them.

“You can put that in my room,” Kelley tugs on the bag strap. “You’ll obviously be sleeping with me. Unless...” Kelley pauses, turning to Tobin with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “You want to sleep with Christen?” She raises an eyebrow with a smirk, as if she knows a secret.

Tobin’s known that they’re roommates, well, only as of recently because Christen told her.

Ever since the championship game, Tobin added Christen on Facebook after sifting through Kelley’s friends. She waited until returning back to campus to add her, not wanting to seem _too_ eager.

The two exchanged messages back and forth sporadically about some things that’s been happening in their lives.

Christen’s parents adopted a cute little pup, even though she’s scared of animals, she loves Morena. Tobin finally declared a major—communications—that she had all the requirements for anyways, mentioning that she minored in photography because she likes art and enjoys capturing moments behind a lens.

It wasn’t too in-depth, just enough to keep a conversation.

Christen tells Tobin that she’s becoming Kelley’s new roommate sometime during the summer once the semester’s over, which she explained she’s excited, but a little scared because she knows how rowdy Kelley can get, and taking any and all school obligations out, she doesn’t know what Kelley’s fully capable of.

“I’ll sleep wherever I end up,” Tobin shrugs noncommittally.

“Sure ya will Tobs,” Kelley points down the hallway they pass. “Second door on the right. Throw your stuff wherever and come join us, we gotta get you caught up.”

Tobin walks towards the room, with the door slightly ajar, pushing to reveal a messy room with clothes strewn everywhere. She laughs, but expects nothing less when it comes to Kelley being organized.

Quickly tossing her bag somewhere on the floor, she shuts the door and immediately bumps into—

“Ow, what the?” The voice says and Tobin takes a step back, turning to see someone she didn’t realize she could miss.

“Christen!” Tobin says excitedly, the tiredness from traveling disappearing, easily pulling the forward into a hug.

After a second into the hug, Christen must have realized who’s hugging her because her arms snake around Tobin’s waist, hugging her tightly.

“It’s so nice to see you,” Tobin murmurs with the sound of the party down the hall.

“Talking to you online definitely isn’t the same as actually hearing your voice,” Christen says softly and so honest that Tobin hugs her tighter.

“Well I’m here for a few days,” Tobin pulls back, looking into Christen’s eyes. “I might even give you my number before I go, but get ready to hear my voice this whole week.” She teases and Christen playfully pinches her back, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever,” Christen smiles anyways.

\--

Tobin’s drunk.

She didn’t plan on getting _this_ drunk. All she wanted was a nice buzz enough for her to keep her fully aware of what’s going on, but whatever Heather put in the jungle juice—mission accomplished.

The funny, but also kind of sad, thing is that she’s only drank two cups of the concoction and Kelley’s alive and thriving, playing beer pong or flip cup or downing whatever drink’s given to her.

She can admit she doesn’t drink as much anymore.

Her days of attending frat parties on a consistent basis stopped sometime during her junior year because she felt she outgrew that, preferring to have quieter nights in.

She always considered herself a heavyweight with how many people she’s drank under the table, though that’s not currently showing.

Her legs feel heavy and she has no intention of moving from her spot on the couch, even though she’s the only one sitting. She closes her eyes and rests her head on the cushion.

“Hey drunkie,” A voice catches Tobin’s attention as the couch cushion next to her dips.

“I’m not drunk,” Tobin mumbles, as the person taps her nose.

“You haven’t moved in over an hour,” The voice teases, and Tobin realizes that it’s Christen.

Tobin opens one eye to see Christen resting on her hand, smiling softly and it does _something_ to her that she can’t quite explain. “Okay, I might be drunk,” She admits a little reluctantly.

“Do you want to sleep?”

“Are you offering?” Tobin turns her head to Christen rolling her eyes.

“No ya big goof,” Christen drops her hand, leaning her head on her arm. “If you want to sleep, you can sleep in my room tonight. It’s a lot more organized than Kelley’s hurricane of clothes.”

“Are you going to sleep with me?” Tobin asks, not fully aware of what she just asked, nor does she notice the blush form on Christen’s face.

“Uh, I can sleep on the couch?” Christen says unsurely, but Tobin’s not going to let that happen.

“Nooo,” Tobin whines. “Can you sleep with me? I swear I’m a good cuddler, but I can’t guarantee I won’t take all of the blanket.”

“How can I say no to that?” Christen comments, and Tobin doesn’t realize she’s pouting until Christen brings her finger up to flick her lip. “Stop with the face, I’ll sleep next to you. I’ll take you to my room, and clean up a bit before I join you.” Christen stands up from the couch, extending her hand out. “C’mon.”

Tobin smiles, reaching up to meet Christen’s hand that’s so smooth in hers that it almost feels wrong to be holding it. She doesn’t automatically stand up, leaving the two staring at each other while the rest of the party is still happening around them.

“Is there something on my face?” Christen asks awkwardly when Tobin doesn’t get up.

“No,” Tobin replies simply, shaking her head. “You’re just really pretty.”

The compliment draws a shy smile on the Stanford player’s face, looking away. “And you’re really drunk.” Christen tugs, trying to get Tobin to stand up.

“I may be,” Tobin shrugs. “But I mean it when I say that you’re really pretty.” She realizes how bad that sounds, that she sounds really shallow, so she back tracks. “And it’s not just your looks. You’re an amazing person too.”

“Tobin, you barely know me enough to say that,” Christen tugs a little harder to get the midfielder to move from her spot on the couch.

“It doesn’t matter, I don’t need to know you that well. I just know,” Tobin grins.

“Okay, you’re going to bed. I don’t know what’s in the jungle juice, but let’s go,” Christen tugs with a little more force, pulling Tobin to her feet.

The movement is too fast for Tobin to react properly as she stands up, forcing her to fall into Christen. Thankfully, the forward’s reflexes are a lot more coordinated as she wraps her arms around Tobin’s waist, holding her up. 

“Whoa,” Tobin steadies herself as she leans against Christen’s body, naturally bringing one of her arms around Christen’s shoulders. “Okay yeah, I am drunk.”

“I told you,” Christen mutters as they start walking towards her room.

There’s still a good number of people at the house. Tobin sees a few people playing some drinking game on the kitchen island with others filtering in and out of the backyard door. 

Tobin’s swaying a bit as they walk, but Christen’s solid, making sure she doesn’t fall or trip. She’s slightly embarrassed by how drunk she is because she can’t remember a time where she was the one being held up, but she’s thankful that it’s Christen helping. If it was anyone else (i.e. Kelley), she might be worse off.

They make it to the room, Christen having to shrug Tobin up a bit as she opens the door.

Tobin immediately notices the stark difference between the roommates’ rooms.

Christen’s room is neat, with the bed made and no clothes to be found except for a couple hoodies hanging over the desk chair. The walls are slightly decorated with pictures but there’s still a small stack of photos on the desk, as if Christen’s still deciding where she wants to put them.

There’s a queen sized bed against the wall and Tobin sighs, shaking herself from Christen’s embrace to fall stomach first on top of the bed, not bothering to pull the blankets over her. Her eyes shutting as soon as her body hits the soft mattress.

“Tobin,” Christen chuckles.

Tobin makes a grunting sound as she gets comfortable. The bed dips next to her, and a hand affectionately starts rubbing her back.

“Are you going to be okay here?” Christen asks, the hand on her back soothing her to sleep. “I’m going to clean up a little.”

Tobin slightly turns her body, eyes barely open, “I can help.” She attempts to push herself up, but her arms give out on her and Christen giggles.

“It’s okay. Just sleep,” Christen rubs her back one last time, and Tobin immediately misses the contact as soon as the bed moves.

“Okay,” Tobin mumbles, finding a pillow to hug and eyes shutting with her brain ready to sleep.

“I’ll be back,” Christen says softly, who carefully covers her body with a blanket before she hears the door shutting quietly.

\--

A hush conversation Tobin hears brings her out of her slumber, but it doesn’t fully wake her.

“Why is she in your bed?” Tobin recognizes its Kelley talking, but she stays in the same position, not wanting them to know she’s somewhat awake.

Tobin slightly opens her eyes to the wall with the room mostly being dark except for the faint light illuminating behind her from the hallway. The brightness being a little too bright, she closes her eyes to block the light out.

“Have you seen your room?” Christen retorts.

“I was going to clean it,” Kelley says defensively.

“It’s fine. She’s already asleep, so just let her be. There’s no point in waking her up,” Christen reasons.

“Fine. Where are you going to sleep?”

“In my bed?”

“You’re going to sleep with Tobin?” Kelley sounds like she’s in disbelief.

“It’s not a big deal,” Christen says casually, but to Kelley, it seems like a big deal.

They must have left the room because Tobin can’t hear their voices as clearly as it turns into a muffled sound with the wall separating them.

Tobin snuggles deeper into Christen’s bed, pulling the blanket over her shoulder while holding onto the same pillow she had earlier.

Before Tobin falls back asleep, the sound of the door creaks then softly clicks shut. The bed shifts and the blanket she conveniently pulled over herself is tugged slightly, the cold air entering the space as Christen slides under, immediately replacing the cold with warmth.

Tobin might’ve been imagining it, but she swears that Christen whispers goodnight. 

\--

At some point during the night, Tobin must’ve let the pillow she fell asleep with go because she wakes up with her arm wrapped around Christen’s stomach and her face full of curly hair.

Her head’s throbbing as she opens her eyes, the morning light filtering through the window blinds. She scoots back a little, making space between her and Christen’s body, but as she moves, Christen moves too, bringing her hand down to Tobin’s arm to keep her there.

Tobin relents, snuggling into the girl in her arms, easily falling back asleep.

\--

Tobin wakes up to a _bang_ and laughter immediately following. She looks around and realizes she’s the only one in the room. She pats the empty space next to her, feeling the coolness of the bed sheet, wondering what time it is. She finds a digital clock on the nightstand, illuminating that it’s _4:23_ p.m.

“What the fuck,” Tobin mumbles, as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. She slowly sits up, yawning and stretching before she’s fully aware of her surroundings.

There’s another loud _bang_ followed by _Kelley! Tobin’s still sleeping_.

Tobin chuckles, knowing that her friend is getting impatient that she’s been sleeping for this long. She honestly has no idea what time she passed out.

She makes her way to the kitchen to find Christen sitting on a stool and Kelley mixing something in a bowl. Christen notices her first and gives a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry, did we wake you?”

“Who cares if we did,” Kelley scoffs. “She’s been asleep for _ever_.”

“Kelley,” Tobin doesn’t miss the eye roll from Christen. “Be nice.”

“It’s okay Christen,” Tobin smiles, walking towards the counter, completely unfazed by Kelley’s attitude. It’s been something she’s used to. “What’re you making?”

“Fried chicken,” Kelley answers, not taking her eyes away from the bowl as she measures the ingredients. “How ya feeling?”

“Better than I did this morning,” Tobin answers, seeing Christen pull the stool next to her so she could sit. “Thanks.”

They fall into an easy conversation as they watch Kelley prepare the food. Kelley teases Tobin for getting drunk so fast, making Christen laugh at her expense. Tobin defends herself saying that it was because of her flight, using jetlag as an excuse.

They also decide on what they plan to do for Tobin’s stay. Kelley suggests surfing somewhere in Half Moon Bay, which Tobin eagerly agrees while Christen’s on the fence since she’s not too keen on water activities, but she’ll go anyways to relax and catch up on a book she’s been wanting to read.

Soccer training is scheduled in the early morning, much to Kelley’s dismay because it is summer and sleeping in sounds nice, but Christen’s not letting her. Tobin shrugs because she doesn’t mind when they train, as long as they do. She did enough relaxing at home that she’s itching to get back on the pitch.

The other days, they’ll play it by ear because Kelley sees no point in planning every single day out to the hour.

Kelley does inform the two that she’ll be gone a whole day because she has things to do with her sorority sisters before they move away, leaving Christen and Tobin to fend for themselves.

“What do you want to do?” Christen asks, turning to Tobin who’s watching Kelley drop the breaded chicken into the boiling oil, the food sizzling as soon as it hits the oil.

“Uh anything, it doesn’t matter to me.” Christen hums, and Tobin can see her brain working. “Seriously, we can just chill or you can show me one of your favorite places in the area. Down for whatever.”

“Oh that gives me an idea!” Christen smiles.

Tobin returns the smile, and a sudden wave of nervousness hits her because she’s been alone with Christen and doesn’t know what they would talk about.

Though they had a conversation the night of the championship game, they were both a few drinks in. Sober Tobin might not be as smooth as drunk Tobin that night, or even last night. She vaguely remembers telling Christen that she was really pretty, but she isn’t sure if that actually happened.

“You’re gonna take her to Marin huh,” Kelley halfway turns away from the stove. “Don’t worry Tobs. On the way there, it’ll look like somewhere she’d bury a body, but it’s actually nice.”

“Shut up Kelley,” Christen huffs, crossing her arms.

“I’m sure I’ll like it either way,” Tobin reassures, bringing Christen’s attention back to her and giving a small smile.

“Oh shit!” Kelley exclaims as the piece of chicken slips from her hand, splattering the oil everywhere.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” Christen mutters, Tobin immediately getting up to make sure Kelley doesn’t burn the house down. 

\--

“Okay, so I know what Kelley said about how it _looks_ like I’m going bury your body, but I swear I’m not going to,” Christen explains, shoulder checking as she switches lanes.

“I believe you,” Tobin nods, as they drive into the traffic to cross the Golden Gate Bridge.

Their day started early, just like the past few days had.

Kelley left the house by the time the two finished training at Stanford’s soccer field, letting them to get ready with less noise and less of Kelley barging in and out of the rooms asking what they’re doing for the day.

Except for today.

Tobin’s last full day in California before she flies back to New Jersey for light preseason training with her new team.

She’s hoping she’ll get a call up for the national team since next year’s a World Cup year, but she’s trying not to think too much about that.

“This place,” Christen gently brakes as they come to a stop at the light, “Is really beautiful. I found it one day when we had a day off and we decided to be tourists. I come out here once in a while when I need a break.”

“Thanks for taking me,” Tobin replies, appreciative that Christen’s bringing her to a place that means something to her.

“I’m glad you brought your camera,” Christen gestures to the device on Tobin’s lap. “There should be some great shots, I think. You’ll see where the bay opens into the Pacific Ocean, it’s…” She pauses, thinking of the word to say as the stoplight turns green. “Something.”

“I’m sure I’ll know what you mean when I see it,” Tobin teases, playfully hitting Christen’s arm.

“Shut up,” Christen sticks her tongue out as she accelerates the car.

They fall back into an easy conversation about random things that cross their mind as they move through traffic. Christen’s been fixated on this move Tobin showed her and keeps asking where she learned it and how to do it, which Tobin answers with no problem and assures Christen she’s not annoying her.

Tobin remembers how simple it is to talk with Christen the more time they’ve spent together. It makes her feel comfortable in sharing things about herself she doesn’t necessarily say to people.

She found herself telling Christen more about things that even Kelley doesn’t know when it’s just the two of them.

Like how she wishes she majored in art instead of communications because it seemed like such a cop out now that she graduated.

Like how she wants to win a World Cup so badly and prays every night that she’s given the chance to play with the national team on that grand of a stage. 

Like how she can’t imagine her life _after_ soccer as much as people ask her what’s she going to do when she retires because she literally just graduated and is about to play on a professional team.

Christen listens attentively that she eases Tobin’s doubts and worries by telling her to taking things as they come, and things have a funny way of working out even when she’d least expect it.

As they drive across the Golden Gate Bridge, Tobin snaps some shots as they pass the first tower of the bridge. She’s been to the bridge before—Kelley made her walk across it a couple years back—and it’s different now that she’s not fighting the wind or fighting Kelley as they race bikes from one end to the other.

“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?” Christen asks once they get to the other side.

“Definitely, I like bridges a lot,” Tobin smiles as Christen exits, turning left at the stop sign. She notices there aren’t that many cars on this road and can’t help herself. “So, this is the part where you kill me and hide my body right?” She turns to Christen, taking a quick picture of the smile following the eye roll.

“No,” Christen says flatly.

“Alright, well if you can, tell my family I love them and tell Kelley, she still owes me five dollars,” Tobin jokes and Christen whacks her arm with enough force that she drops the camera back onto her lap. “Ouch.”

Christen shakes her head, biting her lip as Tobin sulks while rubbing the spot as if it really hurts.

They stop behind cars at a red light that leads into a tunnel, confusing Tobin. Christen explains that it’s a one-way tunnel to filter traffic, even though it’s usually not busy except for the weekends.

Tobin starts to get impatient as they wait at the light. It feels like they’ve been sitting there for an hour that Christen physically stops Tobin’s leg from bouncing by putting her hand on her thigh.

“Sorry,” Tobin says sheepishly after Christen removes her hand, and the light finally turns green.

They drive through the tunnel and once they’re out of it, it’s a lot of hills and the ocean’s coming into view as they drive along the road.

“Wow,” Tobin says in awe as Christen carefully drives along the curvy road.

“I know right?”

Tobin doesn’t reply, instead taking it all, completely amazed by the beauty of the hidden gem that Christen’s sharing with her. They pass a few buildings that Christen explains that give some information about the history of the area, Tobin calling her a _nerd_ for checking the buildings out.

They pull into a dirt parking lot with a couple cars spread out and Tobin eagerly gets out before Christen can put the car in park. She hears Christen’s laugh before the door shuts.

The warmth of the sun hits her face and she takes a deep breath, inhaling the fresh ocean air. It’s warm enough that she takes her hoodie off, tossing the sleeves around her neck as she brings her gaze to the ocean.

“Ugh,” Tobin hears Christen groan as the car door closes. “It’s cold.”

“It’s not that bad,” Tobin stretches her arms above her head. “Just a bit windy, but it’s not cold.” She turns to see Christen slightly shivering with her arms crossed.

Tobin walks over to Christen’s side, handing over her hoodie, “Here, you need it more than I do.”

“What? No,” Christen tries to return it, but Tobin shakes her head. “Fine,” Christen relents, slipping into the hoodie that’s a little too big on her.

“Looks good on you,” Tobin smiles, and she means it because Christen does look good in her hoodie that it’s doing _something_ to her she can’t quite explain.

“Come on, let’s go,” Christen points to the trailhead sign across the parking lot.

“I’ll follow,” Tobin raises her camera. “I want to take pictures of you while we’re doing this, if that’s cool.”

“I’m not really photogenic,” Christen says shyly, looking down at the ground.

“Photogenic or not, I still think you’re pretty,” Tobin says, lowering the camera and Christen looks up at her with a small smile tugging at her lips. “I just want to remember this day, you’ll look good in them.”

“Okay fine fine,” Christen locks the car. “Come on Annie Leibovitz,” She taunts and Tobin almost drops her camera as she walks away.

“Wait what?” Tobin composes herself as she hurries after the girl who keeps on surprising her. Christen doesn’t stop walking, but spins to face her with the biggest grin.

Tobin shakes her head in amusement, bringing the camera to eye level and capturing the moment. She can’t wait to get the film developed from all the things they’ve done over the week.

\--

“Tobin stop.”

“Christen, it’s fine,” Tobin says reassuringly as she balances on top of a fragmented beam perched on a cliff, that if she missteps, she’ll meet the ocean right below.

“Tobin.”

“Christen.”

“Please,” Tobin turns to a pouting Christen with her slightly outstretched, as if to catch Tobin _just in case_.

They’ve been exploring for the past couple hours, walking on various trails along the coast while climbing around the historic Battery Mendell. The Point Bonita Lighthouse was also open, which had plenty of perfect photo opportunities.

An older couple offered to take their picture with the lighthouse and ocean behind them, and they teased Tobin for standing at least a foot away from Christen, that the Stanford player threw Tobin’s arm over her shoulder as she brings her arms to wrap around Tobin’s body. 

(Tobin ignores that they fit well together, even if Christen’s slightly taller with her head tucked into her neck.)

Now, after walking on a less traveled trail, they’re at the edge where the bay and the Pacific Ocean meets. The wind picked up a bit, but Tobin won’t ask for her hoodie back because Christen’s shivering even with the hood on.

They, more Tobin, climbed on the abandoned buildings with Christen cautiously following behind. Tobin noticed the graffiti right away, wanting to see what the artists created.

Someone scribbled a quote in the midst of all the color and designs that Tobin reads silently, but Christen read out loud when she finally made it to where Tobin stood, “And where we stand here looking out, the wind spoke to us and said, some things are meant to matter, but nothing is meant to last.”

Tobin took a moment, processing what it means, before turning to Christen to ask what she thinks.

The forward brought her gaze to Tobin as she waited for an answer, shrugging, “I think that we’ll go through so many things, on different scales where one weighs more than another, but no matter how big or small something is, they’re not supposed to last forever anyways because they just can’t or we’re not living, not being fully present in what’s happening right then and there,” She trailed off, looking down slightly embarrassed, as if it was way too personal to share her thoughts like that. 

“I like it,” Tobin said simply.

“You think so?” Christen asked, glancing up.

“I do,” Tobin nodded. “You’re a special one, Christen. I like hearing what you have to say and think about things.”

But right now, Tobin’s ignoring what Christen’s saying.

“If there’s one picture I want to be in, it’s this one,” Tobin extends her hand out with the camera to the girl standing a couple feet away on solid ground.

“I don’t get what was wrong with the one we took together,” Christen mutters as she hesitantly takes the camera. “I’m not good with taking pictures.”

“It’s okay, I’ll teach you,” Tobin says as Christen looks through the viewfinder. “Point it at me, not…,” Tobin trails off, smiling as she watches the girl point the camera at everywhere except her.

“I’m trying to figure this thing out,” Christen says sweetly.

“You don’t,” Tobin explains. Christen finally points the camera lens at her. “I’ve already adjusted the settings. Just center me in the viewfinder and press the shutter button.”

“What if I don’t?” Christen lowers the camera, smirking.

“I don’t know. We’ll see when I get it developed,” Tobin says.

Christen shrugs, bringing the camera back up. “So you want the ocean behind you right? And you standing on the beam?”

“Yes please,” Tobin grins, holding up a _hang loose_ sign, then slightly drops her hand when she sees Christen take a step back. “What’re you doing?”

“Framing it so it looks right,” Christen sticks her tongue out in concentration.

Tobin shakes her head, bringing her hand back up, smiling brightly as she waits for the forward to take the picture. The shutter clicks once Christen presses the button.

“Thanks,” Tobin says, jumping from the beam to the ground and she hears the shutter click again. “Christen.”

“Tobin,” The shutter clicks again as the midfielder walks toward Christen, taking a step away.

“Christen,” Tobin repeats, reaching for the camera as she takes another step closer, but misses as she takes another step back. The shutter clicks once more. “Christen, stop taking pictures of me.”

“But it’s fun.”

Tobin knows there was less than ten shots left before she stood on the beam, so she doesn’t fret over the film being wasted. She definitely took more than enough pictures of Christen. 

_Click_. _Click_. _Click_.

And yeah, she really can’t wait to get the film developed.

\--

They arrive back at the house before it becomes completely dark, stopping at the grocery store to pick up ingredients for dinner. Tobin wanted to order pizza and wings because it’s her last night and they’ve eaten relatively healthy throughout the week, but Christen was able to persuade her to help her make a salmon bake paired with vegetables of her choosing.

Not without Tobin sneaking a pint of ice cream and a pack of cookies to share for dessert.

Christen prepares most of the meal with Tobin watching and helping when needed, like grabbing a bowl or mixing the olive oil in the vegetables, things like that.

Tobin put the food filled tray into the oven while Christen starts to clean up to make their lives a little easier after they eat.

There’s soft music playing the background—Christen’s playlist, of course. Tobin didn’t take the reins on the music because she wanted to know what kind of music the other girl liked listening to.

Plus, a lot of what Tobin listens to is hip-hop and rap, something she had a feeling Christen didn’t really enjoy, unless it’s in the locker room to get pumped up for a game.

It’s a blend of alternative indie music like the xx, Adele, Foster the People sprinkled with a few R&B songs breaking it up, but it’s nice way to end the day they had.

They’re sitting on a stool, sipping a glass of wine as they wait for the food to be done, when one song comes on that Tobin’s never heard of.

“What song is playing?” Tobin asks Christen mid-sip.

“Oh it’s a song Tyler showed me a while ago,” Christen replies, placing the glass on the counter. “I think it’s called ‘Just Friends’ by…” She trails off, glancing at the iPod screen. “Musiq Soulchild.”

Tobin nods her head to the beat of the song, taking in the lyrics as Christen pours more wine into both their glasses. Without much thought, she takes the bottle from Christen’s hand, placing the bottle next to their glasses.

Christen’s looking at her, confused, not sure what’s going on and Tobin stands up, extending her hand out.

“What?” Christen looks back and forth between Tobin’s face and the hand in front of her.

“Dance with me?”

“To this song?” Christen gives an awkward smile, laughing nervously. “Right now? In the kitchen?”

“Yeah, why not?” Tobin shrugs, hand still extended.

“Fine, I guess,” Christen relents, grabbing the hand as Tobin pulls her up, taking a couple steps away from the stools so they have room to move.

“I’m not that very good of a dancer,” Christen says, her hands finding a place on Tobin’s shoulders.

“Don’t care,” Tobin says simply, bringing her hands to loosely hold onto Christen’s waist as they start to sway side to side as the song continues to play.

There’s a little bit of space in between their bodies and Tobin can tell how uncomfortable Christen is, but she exaggerates her shoulders moving side to side, making Christen laugh, throwing a not-so-great body roll in between beats that has her laughing even more.

Tobin’s smiling as she watches the girl in her arms laugh, the sides of her eyes crinkled cutely with a big smile that she notices how white her teeth are.

The thought of making Christen smile all the time is something Tobin could see herself doing, but she shakes that thought away as if her and Christen would ever be together.

The song ends, switching to a mellower song—something that sounds a lot like ‘Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman—and they stand still, staring at each other.

Tobin pulls Christen into her, mumbling _one more song_ , so that their bodies are touching, interlacing her fingers together on the Stanford player’s back. Christen lowers her head to rest on Tobin’s shoulder as they sway slowly.

Tobin can admit that she developed a little crush on the girl who’s quietly singing the lyrics as they dance.

Christen’s sweet, smart, humble, ambitious, and plays her favorite sport. It’s an added bonus that she thinks Christen is insanely pretty.

Christen’s _way_ out of her league that she’s lucky she was able to get to know her because she’s pretty sure that if it were under normal circumstances, they likely wouldn’t give each other the time of day.

The timer beeps and the song ends, transitioning into an unfamiliar song. Christen pulls back first, hands still where they started, piercing green eyes meeting Tobin’s gaze.

“Christen,” Tobin murmurs, glancing down at Christen’s lips because they look very kissable and she wants to very much feel Christen’s on hers.

“Yes,” Christen licks her lips before leaning forward.

“Am I interrupting something?”

The two immediately jump back at the sound of Kelley’s voice, turning to see their friend studying them intently a few feet away. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Kelley repeats. “Because I can leave if I am.”

“No,” Tobin sees Christen shake her head from her periphery. “You weren’t.”

“You sure? Because it looked like something,” Kelley comments, raising an eyebrow directed towards Tobin while Christen moves to take the food out of the oven.

“Yes,” Tobin says, rubbing the back of her neck, but Kelley doesn’t believe her.

Kelley stares at Tobin a little longer, giving her a look that she can’t quite decipher, but knowing her friend, she won’t let this go and it’ll be a topic of discussion sometime later when they’re alone and Christen’s nowhere near.

“I came back early to have dinner together on Tob’s last night, so what we eating?”

Christen tosses a raw potato over her shoulder, hitting Kelley point blank on the face.

\--

“Thanks for having me,” Tobin says, pulling back from the hug even though Kelley keeps her arms wrapped tightly, not letting go. “Kell, c’mon.” She sighs, trying to get the smaller girl off her.

“Fine,” Kelley huffs, unwrapping herself from Tobin’s body. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“You know I won’t,” Tobin smirks.

“Unless you’ll miss someone else?” Kelley grins and Tobin shoves her friend with enough force she steps backwards. “One day, you’re going to push me and I’ll fall, cracking my head wide open, and my brain smearing the ground. All the knowledge gone.”

“And I’ll still laugh,” Tobin says seriously.

Tobin had to say goodbye to Christen before they went to bed last night because the forward had a volunteer event that started early the following morning. Kelley made a comment about how Tobin should sleep with her roommate tonight, “ _You know, keep her warm and stuff_ ,” which Tobin _again_ shoved Kelley into the wall on her way to her room.

They hugged tightly, even though Tobin was reluctant to let Christen go.

“Oh yeah, let me see your phone,” Tobin said, which Christen pulled the device from her back pocket, handing it over. “I said I’d give you my number,” Tobin smiled as she entered her information.

“So does this mean I can call you whenever?” Christen asked as Tobin gave back the phone.

“You can call, text, whatever, whenever, and I’ll do my best to get back to you.”

“Deal,” Christen nods approvingly.

They hugged one last time, saying that they’ll speak soon.

Tobin felt _weird_ after she let Christen go, watching her quietly shut her room door, but she shook it off, knowing she’d _miss_ Christen, but didn’t think anything much of it.

(Later down the road, she’d realize _exactly_ what she was feeling.)

“Better go before the cab leaves you,” Kelley tilts her head to the car that’s been waiting for the past five minutes.

“Then you gotta let me leave Kell,” Tobin rolls her eyes, picking up her duffel bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “See you soon?”

“You know it,” Kelley throws up a peace sign. “Maybe you’ll see Christen soon too.” She adds, knowing that she’ll get a reaction, and Tobin’s about five seconds away from swinging her bag at her friend.

“Shut up,” Tobin groans.

Tobin knew Kelley would have _something_ to say about the compromising-not-compromising situation she found them in. Tobin didn’t know how Kelley waited this long. The teasing is expected, but if anyone else found out, like Ashlyn or even Whitney, it would be relentless.

It’s a _crush_.

It’s not like Tobin’s going to propose or something.

“You two would be cute together,” Kelley brushes off an invisible piece of lint on her shirt. “But if we want to be realistic, it wouldn’t work.”

“I honestly don’t want to talk about this,” Tobin shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Literally.”

“Okay.”

“Seriously.”

“I know,” Kelley says, but it doesn’t sound like she believes what Tobin’s saying at all.

“I’m gonna go. I’ll call you when I get back to Jersey,” Tobin says dismissively because Kelley’s starting to get on her nerves, turning to walk towards the cab.

Tobin’s about six steps away from Kelley before she says, “It’d be funny if she made the national team.”

Tobin stops walking in her tracks, but doesn’t turn around. She lets herself think for a quick second that _if_ Christen ever did make the national team, maybe they could be together. She shakes her head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came.

“It would be, wouldn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's been a lot going on and i haven't really had the time to write as much as i want to, but i did meet christen press _twice_ at the olympic qualifiers and i've still very much been on a high since. 
> 
> anywho, this story will be progressing slow before we get to where the prologue is so i hope you'll stick with me, so thanks for reading and i'll see ya in the next chapter!


	4. 2011

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya, i hope all of you are staying safe and keeping yourself entertained with how crazy things are right now. 
> 
> and with that, please enjoy :)

**(past, 2011)**

Tobin couldn’t believe it.

“What’d she say?” Cindy asks while Tobin stares blankly at her bedroom wall.

“She…” Tobin looks up to her mother, hands clenched in front of her face, waiting for her to say something, _anything_. “Sh-she said that I made the World Cup roster.”

It doesn’t sound real.

“Oh my god!” Tobin’s immediately engulfed in her mom’s arms, hugging her tightly. “I’m so proud of you!” Her mother says and it takes another moment before Tobin returns the hug. “I’m going to go call your sisters and brother. We’re going out to celebrate tonight!”

Cindy lets go of her daughter, leaving her in a daze as she leaves the room to go call her siblings. She vaguely hears her mother shouting in the house that her daughter’s going to the world cup, and her father responding, “She’s _what_?”

Tobin just got off the phone with Coach Pia Sundhage, congratulating her on making the roster and she was very excited to have her play this coming summer in Germany.

She barely remembers the rest of the conversation after that.

She honestly doesn’t know if she said anything.

The last thing said to her was, “ _So we’ll see you at training camp in California at the start of the month._ ”

Tobin still couldn’t believe it.

This was what she wanted.

And it’s actually a reality.

\--

Tobin arrives in southern California a couple days before training camp officially starts, meeting the other players at the airport.

Some she knows, some she introduces herself to.

It was slightly nerve wracking because even though she’s played with some of them, playing for something as big as the World Cup makes her feel like the new kid. She has less experience, less training, and less _everything_ since she’s barely started her professional career and only played in a handful of caps.

She wished Kelley made the team so she would feel a little more comfortable, but her friend did say that even though she didn’t make the roster, she’s a reserve in case a player gets injured. But for now, the Stanford player will be focusing on their rookie season until further notice.

Kelley called her a week ago, wishing her luck and to get comfortable with being uncomfortable because it’s nothing like either of them have experienced.

Tobin gravitates to Lauren and Amy when the team’s all together as they wait to go to the hotel. She’s known the two since college, their respective universities playing each other at one point.

They make small talk, asking how their lives are going and what they’ve been up to while the others break off into their own groups.

They’re redirected to the team bus, Tobin walking behind Lauren and Amy as they talk about their boyfriends or something—something Tobin has no interest in.

Someone, Tobin isn’t sure if it’s Abby or Hope, declares that there are assigned seats and once they sit, that’s their seat until the World Cup’s over.

Lauren and Amy sit next to each other, leaving the pair empty seats in front for Tobin.

Tobin drops herself on the seat, taking the seat closest to the window as she stretches her legs out.

“So Tobin, are you dating anyone?” Lauren asks, tapping the top of Tobin’s head.

“Nah,” Tobin says simply.

“Why not?” Amy pipes up, leaning forward to join the conversation.

“Not really looking,” Tobin shrugs indifferently.

“Is there someone in mind?” Lauren prods.

There’s _one_ person in particular that crosses Tobin’s mind, but she shakes her head, “No.”

Tobin doesn’t miss the expression Lauren throws her way, as if she _knows_ , but she can’t possibly know because she hasn’t mentioned Christen once.

Amy takes Lauren’s attention away, asking about whether or not Jrue is making travel plans to Germany, relieving Tobin from further questioning.

Tobin has spoken to Christen at least once a week since she visited over the summer, discussing their week and anything else worth mentioning. Some conversations lasted less than fifteen minutes, others lasted a couple hours if neither had anything to do that day.

Their first time talking on the phone was shortly after Tobin developed the pictures, wanting to share them with her.

Tobin emailed most of the pictures from the CD to Christen as soon as she had them. The printed pictures were taped all over the walls of her room. She loved how they turned out and was eager to know what Christen thought.

She knew which ones were her favorite.

Her favorite being of Christen.

Well, two pictures in particular.

The first was the picture she took of Christen when they were in the car and she made the comment of hiding her body. She remembered Christen rolled her eyes right before smiling, looking adorable.

The second was a candid picture that Tobin knows she didn’t take because it was when they were at the lighthouse. The older man must’ve snapped the shot after posing because they were looking at each other, Christen with a wide smile and Tobin with a playful scowl, and it was a moment that she wished she remembered what Christen said.

(It was also a really cute picture of them.)

Christen loved the pictures, and told Tobin so, saying that they were really good and hoped she never stopped taking pictures. She also liked the pictures she took of Tobin, saying that she might consider a side gig as a photographer because _I have such an eye for framing_.

That made Tobin laugh with her whole chest, remembering how adorable Christen looked she was taking the pictures.

One of her favorite pictures was the same as Tobin’s—the candid shot at the lighthouse. She recaps to Tobin that she was teasing her for being awkward in front of the camera, which Tobin smiled as she listened to Christen describe the ordeal in great detail.

Christen was one of the first people Tobin called to tell her that she made the World Cup roster, which the Stanford player squealed in excitement, saying she was so proud of her and that this was her chance, giving encouragement that she can do _this_.

Tobin made a small comment, wanting Christen there with her to experience all of it and Christen was quiet before she spoke.

“ _I wish I was, but I’ll get there one day._ ”

Tobin knew that Christen will get there, so they could play together side by side. 

If not now, then definitely later.

Tobin felt slightly guilty for having to tell Christen she wouldn’t be able to speak as often as she’d like with her training schedule ramping up, which Christen understood with no problem because she gets it, she really does, not faulting her for this opportunity because she wants Tobin to succeed. She reassured Tobin that she’ll text her occasionally with random tidbits from her day or things she might like.

Tobin’s phone vibrates in her sweat pocket. She pulls out the device, seeing who texted her and smiling at a picture of Kelley laying on the ground, covered in flour with her arms over face—with the message of _She’s trying to make cupcakes, not going so well_.

She types out a quick response, slipping her phone back. She sees one of her teammates—a blue-eyed girl with blonde highlights—look around hesitantly as she walks in the aisle, trying to figure out where to sit.

“Yo Alex, wanna sit next to me?” Tobin asks as soon as the girl nears her row.

“Sure,” Alex lets out a sigh of relief as she sits. “Bus buddies?”

“Bus buddies.”

\--

Training is different.

It’s different than her club practices.

Tobin’s been to national team training camps before, but it’s never been like this.

It’s much more serious, much more intense—just more.

Her body’s sore and no amount of ice baths can soothe her aching muscles. It doesn’t help that she may have overexerted herself during a beep test, trying to outrun Heather.

She’s thankful she has Lauren and Amy. She looks up to them for guidance in this stressful environment. They give her advice, even though they’re also considered new kids, Tobin takes everything they say seriously.

Alex tags along with them. She occasionally hangs out with other teammates, but she sticks with Tobin.

It’s most likely due to the fact that they’re roommates during this two-and-a-half-week training camp.

Tobin’s known of Alex, through Kelley since they played in the same conference, but she finds that Alex is easy to talk to, even if she seemed standoffish when they first met at previous camps.

“Serva’s being so annoying,” Alex huffs while Tobin’s laying down on her bed.

“Why?” Tobin slightly turns her body to an annoyed Alex sprawled out on the bed across from her.

“He just doesn’t get it. Like, what does he want me to do? Talk to him while I’m at practice?” Alex rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Which I’m not understanding either because this is literally how our lives are at school. Is he jealous or something that I’m going to the World Cup or something? I can’t control this.”

Tobin continues to listen as Alex vents about how her boyfriend—Servando—has been needier than usual.

She’s learned a lot about the forward.

Alex’s funny. Not in the conventional way where she has stories, but witty one-liners that she says under her breath and Tobin happens to be right there.

Alex talks _a lot_ , more so than anyone Tobin’s ever met, where half the time Tobin just has to sit there and Alex can carry the conversation for them both.

Tobin doesn’t mind, the less talking she does, the better it is for her.

Alex is sensitive, though, it wouldn’t be the first thing someone thinks when they see her. She told Tobin how she doesn’t _really_ like the nickname ‘baby horse,’ but Tobin pointed out that it’s a term of endearment, and it shouldn’t be something to take personally. She is the youngest player on the team, barely legal to drink.

“Seriously, what should I do?” Alex asks after speaking for the past couple minutes.

“Honestly, just ask him,” Tobin says simply.

“Ask him? You want me to just _ask_ him if he’s jealous I’m going to the World Cup?” Alex says, pushing herself up to stare at Tobin indignantly.

“Yes.”

“Fine,” Alex crosses her arms as she lays back down. “Anyways, enough about me, what’s up with you?”

“We’ve literally spent every day together since we got here,” Tobin chuckles, propping herself up. “What could possibly be up with me?”

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugs. “I know you don’t really talk much, at least, to me.”

Tobin has to give Alex credit because she’s right.

It’s not that she doesn’t trust Alex, but she’s guarded when it comes to her life and has never been one to just open up like some of the girls on the team.

It takes her a while to feel comfortable with most people, though she’s aware that there are a few people where she can easily talk to—Lauren and Amy for example (Christen too, but she’s choosing not to acknowledge that).

Tobin’s just not there yet with Alex, but she’s slowly warming up to the forward.

“Ah,” Tobin rubs the back of her neck, unsure of what to say.

“And it’s fine, you know? I don’t fault you that for that,” Alex says. “I just want to know you a bit more. All I really know about you is that you like to nutmeg everyone and keep pretty much to yourself except when you’re with Lauren or Amy.”

“I swear it’s not you,” Tobin explains quickly. “I’m just…”

“Reserved?” Alex finishes for her, and it describes Tobin accurately. Alex seems to be more observant than Tobin originally thought. “It’s cool. I get it. I just hope you know that we’re in this thing together and sooner or later, you’re going to tell me something that even Lauren or Amy don’t know.”

\--

There’s only three days left before the players head back to their respective cities for club obligations. A couple friendlies against Brazil and Australia are scheduled a month from now. Then a series of send off games before they head to Germany.

Thankfully, today of all days was a recovery day that Tobin has some free time to call Christen.

“Tobin? Hey,” Christen sounds out of breath, picking up after the second ring.

“Are you busy?” Tobin asks, hoping that she’s not interrupting anything because Christen has midterms coming up and she’s been slightly freaking out over it.

“No, no,” Tobin can imagine Christen shaking her head. “I just finished a run with Kelley and she wanted to sprint the last mile. We literally just got back to the house.”

“Did you win at least?”

“Of course,” Christen says cockily and Tobin can hear Kelley groaning in the background. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Tobin says hesitantly. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“What’s wrong?”

_What wasn’t wrong_ , Tobin thinks.

There wasn’t anything wrong per se.

Tobin’s been doing well in the drills, translating perfectly into the team scrimmages. She’s been playing better than when camp started and the coaches have commended her efforts.

It’s just…

She feels off.

When she _knows_ she shouldn’t be. 

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying,” Christen states matter-of-factly. “Seriously, what’s going on Tobin? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” Tobin did _slightly_ tweak her back the other day when kicking, but thought nothing of it and didn’t say anything to any of the trainers. “I feel…” Christen waits as Tobin tries to put what she’s feeling into words. “Like I’m not all here. It feels like my mind’s in a different place when I _should_ be focusing. It’s overwhelming being here because everyone’s so good. They’re all so determined to win and it’s getting to me because yeah I want that too, but—”

“Hey, hey,” Christen says softly, stopping the jumble of words coming from her mouth. “Slow down. You’re okay.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t,” Christen says calmly. “But you are. You are okay. It’s the first of a series of training camps before you’re off to Germany. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. It’s still early, you’re also trying to figure out how to work together. It’s not going to happen right away.”

Tobin smiles at the ceiling as she listens to Christen’s voice, because if she was speaking to anyone else, she might end up getting more worked up. She’s grateful that she has someone like Christen, even if they haven’t been friends for that long.

“You’re the best,” Tobin says, cutting Christen off. “Seriously.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet, but I’m not that great.”

“You are, you really are,” Tobin insists. “If I spoke to Kelley, she’d be riling me up and getting in my head. With you, it’s easy. Almost _too_ easy that I don’t even realize that I’m talking about what’s bothering me.”

Christen’s quiet for a moment and Tobin feels like she might’ve said too much.

“I’m glad I’m that for you,” Christen says softly.

“I’m glad too. Please know I’m here for you too, okay? If it’s one in the morning or one in the afternoon, I’ll be there to listen and try to give advice. I’m not as eloquent as you, but I’ll do my best.”

The door opens, Alex walking into the room, and Tobin nods as her teammate throws her stuff on her bed.

“Chris, can I call you later? Alex just got back.”

“Yeah, sure,” Christen says, and Tobin almost detects the slightest hint of disappointment in her voice. “Thanks for calling. It was nice to hear from you.” 

“No thanks for picking up. I missed talking to you,” Tobin says honestly, as Alex stares at her curiously from her bed.

They say their goodbyes and once Tobin’s off the phone, Alex immediately questions her.

“Who was _that_?”

“No one,” Tobin says as she replies to a text from her mother.

Alex clicks her tongue, and Tobin looks to see her teammate staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You expect me to believe that?” Alex asks incredulously.

“Yes?” 

“You’ve never mentioned that you were dating someone,” Alex jumps so quick from her bed to Tobin’s, bouncing excitedly.

“I’m not dating anyone,” Tobin says firmly, the bed stops moving and Alex looks confused. “I swear I’m not.”

“You said that ‘I missed talking to you,’ how is that not dating?”

“I could have been talking to my mom for all you know,” Alex rolls her eyes.

“But you weren’t. I literally came in and heard the name ‘Chris.’ I know your mom’s name is Cindy. So tell me about him, or her?” Alex says, scratching her head.

“I was on the phone with my friend Christen. That’s all she is, a _friend_ ,” Tobin emphasizes, hoping Alex will drop it.

“But you want to be more than friends with her, right? It’s totally obvious,” Alex states bluntly.

“I don’t, but believe what you will.”

“Just you wait, you’ll tell me about eventually.” Alex says, standing up from Tobin’s bed.

\--

It’s the last night of camp, with training finished in the early afternoon and the final team meeting completed, the players returned to their rooms to pack up their things.

Tobin lays under the blankets while she listens to Alex pack, the sound of the zipper moving along she tries to fit everything she brought and bought into the already oversized luggage.

“I don’t fucking understand,” Tobin hears Alex mutter under her breath. “How the fuck—why won’t it fit?” She turns to see her teammate shaking her head in defeat as the luggage is half-shut with clothes peeking through.

“Need help?” Tobin offers as she moves to get up, ready to sit on the luggage to fully close. She shifts her weight onto Alex’s luggage, waiting for her to zip. “C’mon, I’m ready to sleep and I don’t need to hear you arguing with the luggage.”

Alex relents, rolling her eyes as she zips up the luggage with no issue. Tobin slides herself back under the covers as Alex finishes whatever else she has to do, staring at the ceiling.

Tobin’s tired, but a _good_ tired.

After her quick talk with Christen, she felt a little better about the situation and realized it’s going to take time to adjust to everyone.

Lauren also gave perspective that she’s experiencing the same thing and that it’s normal. There’s nothing they can do about it because it is the first camp and they’ll know about more what works and what doesn’t work after their first game together.

Alex insinuating that she was dating someone—let alone Christen—hasn’t really left her mind either.

It didn’t make sense to Tobin how Alex could figure something like _that_ about her with little to no knowledge.

Was she really that obvious? As Alex said to her after getting off the phone.

“I can literally hear you thinking from over here,” Alex says, and Tobin’s eyes glance over to see Alex sitting against the headboard, texting on the phone, likely Servando.

Alex took Tobin’s advice about asking point blank about how he felt about her going to the World Cup, and it ended up being a huge misunderstanding because Servando felt bad that he won’t be able to go to Germany this summer to support her. Then Alex felt bad for accusing him.

And—well it was just a misunderstanding that they’ve worked out. 

“What?”

“You’re thinking about something and yeah I know you’re quiet, but you’re quieter than usual if that’s even possible,” Alex shrugs, placing her phone on the night stand in between their beds. “If you want to talk about it, cool. If not, also cool. I’m going to catch up with _Jersey Shore_ until I fall asleep.”

Tobin doesn’t say anything as Alex turns on the television, flipping through until she finds MTV. She thinks that Alex will try to push her to talk about what’s on her mind— _Christen_ —but she doesn’t. Alex laughs when Snooki or JWoww does something, not paying much attention to Tobin’s internal struggle.

“Okay can I talk to you about something?” Tobin says after a few minutes.

Alex lowers the volume, “Sure. What’s up?”

“You promise you won’t tell anyone? Especially Kelley?” Tobin notices the look of confusion cross Alex’s face. 

“Yeah?” Alex says unsurely, not quite putting two and two together why Kelley’s name is suddenly in the conversation. “I won’t tell Kelley.”

“It’s about Christen.”

Tobin avoids eye contact, instead bringing her gaze to the ceiling as she waits for Alex to process.

“Christen…” Alex trails off. “Christen Press? What about her?”

“I may…” Tobin clears her throat. “Have a slight crush on her.”

“Christen. Christen Press. Stanford’s striker who’s a pain in the ass to defend?” Alex says, astonished at what her roommate’s telling her.

“Yes.”

“Okay tell me about it.”

After Alex’s initial surprise, Tobin’s able to tell her what she’s been feeling and thinking over the past few months.

Not well, but Alex is able to get the gist of what Tobin’s trying to say.

(She’s always had difficulty expressing her thoughts into actual words, but it’s a work in progress.)

Tobin doesn’t know what it _is_ about Christen, but she’s drawn to the girl when it makes absolutely no sense because she’s only seen Christen a handful times in her whole life.

She has these feelings that she doesn’t know how to act on them because they’re at two _different_ points in their life and Tobin doesn’t even know if Christen plans on playing after college.

It also doesn’t help that they speak frequently, which Tobin understands the realities of developing a relationship on the phone is _very_ different than a relationship that’s within reach.

But… Tobin realizes that their friendship is stable and solid.

They’re able to talk about the mundane everyday things, yet still able to get down to the nitty gritty of what’s bothering them.

Tobin has that with a lot of people—Lauren, Amy, Kelley, Ashlyn—but it’s different with Christen.

She can’t put it into words, but if there was one thing she had to be sure of (aside from soccer), it’s that Christen just _gets_ her.

It’s natural.

It’s an absolute, leaving no room for uncertainty.

It’s, simply put, special.

“So you’re in love with her?” Alex says bluntly after Tobin finishes trying to explain herself.

“I don’t think I’m love with her,” Tobin says slowly. The idea of being in love terrifies her because she’s never _been_ in love. Intense crushes, sure. Noncommittal relationships that fizzled out because she refused to put the person above soccer. “But I think I _could_ be, given if the circumstances were right.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Did you not listen to what I just said? Two different points in our lives.”

“No, I get that,” Alex backtracks. “But what’s stopping you from making it something, you know? It doesn’t matter if you’re here and she’s there. If two people want something, they’ll find a way to make it work, regardless.”

Tobin has let herself live a fantasy of her and Christen being together, but that’s what it is—a fantasy.

The reality of it, though, could either be really good _or_ really bad.

Which Tobin refuses to jeopardize her friendship with Christen.

Friends.

More than friends.

Tobin would rather have Christen in her life as a friend than destroying it completely if they couldn’t work things out in a relationship.

“I guess,” Tobin says, but a soft pillow is thrown at her face. “Ouch, what the hell?” She turns to see Alex shaking her head.

“I didn’t realize how stubborn you are,” Alex sighs. “But if there’s nothing you want to do about it, that’s okay too.”

Tobin doesn’t say anything right away, a short silence between them with the television sound of Pauly D yelling something about _the cabs are here_ until she says, “Thanks Alex.”

“Hm?” Alex’s eyes are an icy shade of blue and they’re kind of intimidating as look at Tobin. “For what?” The midfielder doesn’t say anything, out of words to describe her gratitude, and a look of understanding crosses Alex’s face. “Don’t mention it.”

“For what it’s worth, I think we’ll be great friends.”

\--

Tobin’s shaking her head in amusement as she watches Kelley stick her foot out, trying to trip Abby. The older player clearly sees what she’s trying to do and kicks her shin as she steps over.

“Ow what the fuck,” Kelley curses, grabbing her shin as Abby and a couple other players laugh as they walk by.

“You know,” Alex stands next to Kelley as she rubs the spot, “She can make your life hell. She likes to pull pranks.”

“Whatever, I’ll get her eventually,” Kelley says confidently, puffing her chest as she shakes her leg out. “Hurry up Tobin, mama’s gotta eat.”

Tobin hears Kelley pat her stomach, as she stuffs her cleats into her bag, slipping on her slides. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” She mutters, looking around the area to make sure she didn’t forget anything.

It was the team’s last send off game before flying to Europe, and Kelley’s first appearance with the national team after Lindsay hurt her knee.

Kelley fit seamlessly into the team—on and off the field. She’s a valuable asset, a total maniac who’s willing to put her body on the line for the ball. She also makes everyone laugh, something that the team didn’t realize they needed until she showed up. 

Tobin was ecstatic when she found out Kelley would be joining the team. One of the people that she started youth camps with is now someone she gets to experience a _World Cup_ with.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even though Kelley’s the opposite of Tobin.

For a small person, Kelley’s presence is loud.

More outgoing. More talkative. More vocal.

It makes sense that Alex and Kelley get along, a little too well for Tobin’s liking because they sometimes gang up on her. Whether it’s eating more sweets when they’re not supposed to or pressuring her to talk about something she doesn’t feel comfortable with.

Tobin acknowledges that she’s more open with Alex, and that’s Kelley’s doing, saying that Alex is a good egg, but Tobin’s still reluctant to be as forthcoming with her thoughts and feelings. 

As much as Tobin loves having Kelley around, she still tends to hang back with Lauren and Amy. They’re a lot calmer and never force Tobin to talk about things she doesn’t want to, but there have been times where they force her (for her own well-being).

Surprisingly, Alex has never mentioned anything to Kelley about Tobin’s little crush nor has she brought it up in conversation. Tobin definitely thought Alex would automatically tell Kelley, but she’s relieved she didn’t.

Kelley has teased Tobin enough over the years. If she ever got wind about the not-feelings Tobin has for her roommate, she wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Tobin also doesn’t know how Kelley would react because she has this sense that Kelley’s a lot more overprotective of Christen than she lets on. She doesn’t want to find out either. Kelley’s loyal to a fault, and she doesn’t want to experience the O’Hara inquisition.

“Tacos?” Tobin suggests when she walks up to Kelley and Alex.

“Last cheat meal before we fly to Germany? Hell yeah,” Kelley fist pumps, causing Alex to laugh. They walk out of the locker room, waving to the remaining players who are taking their time.

“Oh dude, did Christen tell you?” Kelley asks as they make their way out of the stadium.

“Tell me what?” Tobin answers, but doesn’t miss the furtive glance Alex sends her way.

“She’s planning to enter the draft,” Kelley says not realizing that what she’s saying makes Tobin feel a little out of the loop.

“Oh really?” Tobin tries to hide her surprise because last she spoke with Christen on the matter, the forward said she didn’t want to play professionally. Granted that was a month ago. “When’d she decide that?”

“Last week before I left,” Kelley shrugs, holding the door open as they walk through. “When I found out I got called for the World Cup, it sorta sparked something in her. Like if I could be chosen for something as big as this, she believes that she could too. It’s actually intense, but I think she can do it.”

Tobin smiles at that, because she _knows_ Christen has the drive and ability to get to where she is now. It excites her that there’s a higher chance that they may play on the same team together—odds she’s willing to bet on.

“That’s great,” Tobin beams while Alex smirks.

Kelley’s completely oblivious to what’s happening between the two as she changes the conversation to how many tacos she plans on ordering.

Alex nudges Tobin as they’re almost to the van, raising a teasing eyebrow, which the midfielder shakes her head. She refuses to be baited by Alex, especially if it’s about Christen.

_Friends above all_ , Tobin reminds herself.

\--

They made it.

They’re going to the finals against Japan.

It wasn’t easy (and most times, not pretty), but they made it.

It’s happening.

Tobin’s sitting on the bench, leaning against the locker as her teammates cheer around her. Lauren sits next to her as Amy stands on the other side of her, just yelling.

“You ready Tobs?” Lauren nudges her, talking loud enough to be heard over the noise.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Tobin replies, smiling at Kelley trying to wrestle with Pinoe while the team sprays water over them.

Tobin has played a decent amount, starting at least two games and even scoring three goals. She’s thankful for the opportunity she’s been given, playing for her country in the sport she loves.

It’s been physically demanding, but more emotionally draining—something she somewhat prepared for. The team keeps each other in check, easing any and all worries they have, because they’re in _this_ environment together while everyone else is against them.

The support she’s received from her family and friends back stateside is persistent, giving her the confidence and, most importantly, faith to bring the win home.

Christen texts her every now and then with updates on her life, but always leaves a long message to read after games. She looks forward to the messages because it settles the nerves she experienced during the game, whether or not she played.

It ultimately resets her.

Tobin reaches above, searching for her phone as the everyone begins to calm down. As she brings the device in front of her face, Kelley drops herself into Tobin’s lap.

“Dude, we did it,” Kelley says dreamily, leaning against Tobin’s chest. “Can you believe it?”

“I can’t,” Tobin says distractedly as she tries to maneuver her phone to see if she has any messages.

There’s a few from her parents. A couple from her siblings. Even one from her college coach.

Tobin skims through them, making a mental note to respond once she gets back to the hotel. As she scrolls down, she sees a couple messages from Christen, a smile forming that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kelley.

“What’s got you smiling?” Kelley asks, peering over.

“Nothing!” Tobin says defensively, moving her phone from Kelley’s line of sight.

“Fine, don’t share,” Kelley rolls her eyes, digging her tailbone into Tobin’s lap before she stands up, walking over to where Alex’s standing.

Tobin ignores Kelley, clicking on Christen’s message. She zones in on the tiny screen, blocking out the chatter of the locker room.

_Toby! (Still can’t believe you let me call you that, but I promise I won’t abuse it). The team made it to the semifinals! I’ll be watching the game with my sisters and cheering you and Kelley on. I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done during the tournament. I hope I get to be there on the field with you one day. You’re going to crush it._

Tobin grins after reading the first message, checking the time she sent it around the time she was already on the field. She selects the second message and it’s shorter, but still has the same effect.

_You’re going to the finals! You’re going! I’m so happy for you. Great assist to Alex and I think that one player’s soul left her body after you crossed her. Congrats Toby!_

Tobin’s about to reply when she feels a finger poke her face. She looks up to Amy with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. She shuts her phone, hiding the messages before she’s met with an interrogation.

“What?” Tobin asks, trying to play off the grin she was sporting a few moments later.

“You’re oddly smiley,” Amy notes, squinting her eyes as she examines Tobin’s face. “And it’s not because of the win. There’s something else.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tobin denies, untying her cleats as she tries to avoid Amy’s scrutiny, but Lauren chimes in.

“Yeah, who texted you?”

“No one,” Tobin shakes her head, kicking off cleats as she avoids both of her friends prying eyes.

It was only a matter of time before they’d pester her. They’ve noticed over the past few months that Tobin gets giddy at random times, but they don’t know why nor have they asked.

“Tobin, come on,” Amy says seriously. “You know you could talk to us about this right? Whatever it is.”

“Yeah, you know we won’t judge you,” Lauren reassures.

Tobin gives them a genuine smile, and she knows her friends have her best interests at heart.

But it’s just a text from Christen, nothing that merits attention.

“I know you guys won’t,” Tobin says calmly. “But there’s really nothing to tell. It was just a message.”

“And if it’s just a message, why can’t you tell us who it’s from?” Amy disputes, forcing Tobin to relent.

“It’s just from Christen,” Tobin says nonchalantly, but Amy’s surprise is evident on her face while Lauren looks like she’s known along that there was _someone_.

“Who’s Christen?!” Amy says loud enough that some of the players close by briefly stop what they’re doing to look at three of them, but think nothing of it and continue with what they’re doing.

Lauren glares at Amy, rolling her eyes since her friend has the subtly of a hand grenade.

“Sorry,” Amy whispers. “Who’s Christen?”

“Just my friend who plays at Stanford,” Tobin pulls her socks off, avoiding their gazes.

Amy doesn’t say anything else and Tobin senses Lauren has something to do with that, likely still glaring.

Tobin sees Amy walk away in her periphery, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The tension in her shoulders leave as she leans back against the locker, watching her teammates change or talk among themselves. She feels Lauren bump her elbow and she turns to see a soft smile playing on her friend’s face.

“You’ll tell us when you tell us okay? There’s no pressure. I’m just glad there’s someone for you, either romantically or platonically.”

And Tobin can’t help but feel lucky for having people who understand her when she doesn’t understand herself.

\--

_Fuck_ , Tobin lays on the grass, staring at the cloudy sky.

She _missed_.

They lost.

She wants to cry, but there aren’t any tears to fall.

She’s in shock.

She’s frustrated.

She’s… She doesn’t know.

It just didn’t make sense.

They were playing so well, but neither team could score in extra time, boiling down to penalty kicks.

They made two of the five. Tobin’s sailed above the goal into the stands that she shakes her head, the self-loathing quickly setting in. Abby and Amy’s are the only goals that find the back of the net, but it isn’t enough.

“Come on,” Alex is standing in front of her and pulls her up.

From the moment Tobin stands up to when she gets into the locker room, it’s a blur.

She doesn’t remember shaking hands with the players from Japan.

She doesn’t remember having to physically pick up Kelley with Alex.

She doesn’t remember Coach Pia’s speech.

It’s eerily quiet in the locker room.

The only sounds are players changing out of their uniforms and small choked sobs from a few players. Tobin overhears Abby talking to Heather about getting plastered at the pub down the street from their hotel, but she has no intention of drinking.

All Tobin wants right now is to lay in her hotel room, preferably in the dark, and just think about the game.

What went wrong. What went right. What she did. What she could’ve done.

Tobin goes through the motions of changing into more comfortable clothes. The uniform feels like it’s suffocating her. She can’t even bring herself to look at the jersey, feeling that she somehow _failed_.

She finds her phone at the bottom of her bag, discovering way too many messages and a few missed calls. One missed call from Christen, which is surprising because they haven’t spoken on the phone since before she left for Germany.

Neglecting the other messages and missed calls from her mother, Tobin chooses to call Christen back. She answers after the first ring.

“Tobin,” Christen’s voice sounds sad and Tobin’s throat tightens up.

“Hi,” Tobin offers up weakly, sitting with her head hanging down.

“I’m—” Christen starts, but doesn’t finish. Tobin doesn’t need to hear that she’s sorry because she’s already sorry enough for the both of them. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Tobin sighs.

“Seriously, I am. You played so well and it’s okay. It happens. There’s always next time,” Christen says.

“I know,” Tobin sighs again. “If there is a next time,” The bitterness evident in her voice, which Christen doesn’t easily disregard.

“Hey,” Christen says sharply. “Don’t be like that. There will be a next time. I get what you’re feeling, believe me, I’ve had some really tough losses, but you’ll bounce back. You always do.”

“But I don’t _like_ losing,” Tobin huffs, stomping one foot on the ground like a spoiled child.

“No one does,” Christen says soothingly. “But it’s okay. There will be other World Cups I know you’ll make the team for. Plus, the Olympics are next year and you’ll win a gold.”

Tobin smiles at that, “Does that mean you’ll be on the team?”

“I’ll try my best,” Christen says positively and Tobin imagines her smiling. “But are you okay, Tobin? Seriously.”

“I will be,” Tobin looks up to see Alex consoling Kelley, smiling bitterly at the scene, which should have been completely different.

They talk for a little while more, Christen trying to distract Tobin from thinking about the loss, talking about what she did earlier in the day and how she’s nervous for the draft, but her college coach said that Atlanta’s looking to pick her up.

But they have to cut the conversation when one of the team managers walks into the locker room, informing the team that they should be getting ready to leave soon.

Christen tells Tobin that they’ll talk when she’s back stateside. They say their goodbyes and Tobin feels a little better, the sting of the loss still there, but she has completely faith that she’ll be ready for whatever comes next.

Whether it’s for club or country, she’ll be ready.

\--

_Looks like I’ll be playing against you. Can’t wait_. 

Tobin sends the text after watching Christen get chosen as the first overall pick to the Washington DC team. She keeps it short and sweet because it’s enough for Christen to know she’s proud.

And she really can’t wait to see Christen on the field again.

Next season couldn’t come any faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope ya enjoyed it! 
> 
> this slow burn is killing me to write because i want to share the scenes of them together instead of this long distance friendship stuff, but slowly but surely they're getting there. 
> 
> anyways, soccer (and literally all sports) has been suspended until further notice and i'm upset that the usa vs brazil game got cancelled. but i'm grateful i saw them last week in jersey. 
> 
> thanks for reading and i'll see ya in the next chapter. stay safe out there y'all!


	5. 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya, it's a lengthy one. 
> 
> hope you lot enjoy! :)

**(past, 2012)**

The women’s league folds, a week before it’s supposed to start.

A bullshit general email sent from the higher ups and their respective teams’ management, saying that the league is _indefinitely suspended_ due to _lack of funding_ , and that the players are on their own with what they plan to do.

In other words, they’re _fucked_. 

Anyone and everyone who has— _had_ —a team is frantic just by the way Tobin’s phone is blowing up with calls and texts.

She’s about five seconds away from shutting her phone off because it’s _too_ much.

But she can’t.

When she read the email this morning, she made a few calls to get in touch with a European team that approached her towards the end of the club season. They asked if she’d be interested in playing, but politely declined because she wanted a break rather than going straight into a completely different league with a brand new team. Plus, she was still dealing with the sting of the World Cup loss. 

But this email blindsided her, having her scramble to make contact with the coach and manager, hoping that they could work something out.

So she’s waiting for a phone call.

From Paris Saint-Germain, a renowned football club in France.

Tobin has thought about playing overseas, but there were never any offers nor did she go out looking. With club obligations and national team duties, she figured she wouldn’t need to look elsewhere.

There is a _minor_ problem though.

She’s injured.

Enough that required surgery—a grade three ankle sprain caused by a slide tackle during an indoor game a couple weeks after season ended.

Her surgeon said that she would be out for _at least_ six months, something Tobin did not take lightly. She did the surgery a couple days after the incident, not wanting to wait any longer and risking eligibility for call ups. She would rather miss the beginning of her season than the Olympics.

She’s making fast progress, cutting her recovery time to four months, and she should be cleared for light practice in the next two weeks, barring she doesn’t do anything to reinjure herself.

Tobin’s been taking it light since they took her out of the cast and put her in the boot, diligently doing her exercises and anything else the trainers and doctors recommend.

Her parents have visited her every week since getting out of surgery, even though her mother’s just overbearing, wanting any excuse to make the trip out from Jersey to New York. Her father, as a peace offering, brings donuts from the local shop that she loved going to growing up to make things a little better.

Her friends and teammates have kept her sane. The people that are local—Heather and Allie mostly—visit every few days, cooking meals and playing video games to pass time, while the ones that aren’t easily accessible have been communicating through calls and text messages. Christen and Lauren send her things to either make her laugh or motivate her. Though, Christen sends a lot of pictures of her dog and any of the puppies from the shelter where she volunteers. 

But she’s ready to get back on the field.

At this point, it’s not a want. It’s a need.

The phone rings and it’s a number she doesn’t recognize.

“Hello?” Tobin picks up after composing herself.

“Tobin Heath?” A heavy French accented voice comes through.

“That’s me.”

It’s the head coach from PSG, and they make pleasantries, Tobin trying to simplify the situation so there isn’t any misunderstandings. Tobin listens carefully, trying to comprehend what he’s saying.

He’s polite and friendly, explaining that the season has started and bringing her now wouldn’t be beneficial. He also mentions that he has been keeping tabs on her, aware that she’s in the recovery process of a serious injury.

Tobin realizes that it’s going to fall through and her chance of playing in Europe won’t happen because she’s a liability. He clarifies that he would be more than willing to take a chance on her, but he doesn’t want to jeopardize her health with this year being an Olympic year. He’s fully aware that she’s on her country’s national team, recognizing the role she plays. 

She thanks him for spending the time to speak with her, and he says that there’s always next season to consider if things don’t pan out the way she wants.

Tobin sighs once she gets off the phone with him, tossing the device on the table.

It sucks, but he has a point. Coming in halfway through the season off an injury? Probably not the smartest move.

And Olympic year? She wants the gold.

Especially last year in Germany. Redemption is the only thing on her mind.

Tobin reaches for her phone, ready to mute any interactions for the rest of the day. She wants some time to think and what she should do.

It rings instead, distracting her, and she smiles at the name on the screen.

“Wdup O’Hara?” Tobin greets, leaning against the couch cushion.

“Dude, can you fucking believe this shit?” Kelley says without pausing. “What’re we supposed to do? Not play soccer?”

“I don’t know,” Tobin says dejectedly, feeling a little defeated with how her conversation with the PSG coach went.

“I need to talk to Becky. She knows everything,” Kelley says, and there’s some truth to the statement. Kelley also sees Becky all the time, so as soon as she gets off the phone, she’ll probably run over to the defender’s house. 

“Go do that,” Tobin suggests because she’ll take anything at this point.

“I’ll call you either later today or tomorrow, chin up Toby!” Kelley hangs up before Tobin can get out a response.

Tobin rolls her eyes at the nickname. Kelley knows she hates that name, and the only people she lets call her that are her nephews and nieces.

Christen too. But what Kelley doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.

That reminds her. Tobin needs to reach out to Christen because it was supposed to be her rookie season. It was her chance to try to get noticed by the national team.

With no league, what happens?

Tobin wants the best for Christen, because she wholeheartedly believes that this woman deserves a spot on the national team. She’s witnessed her skills firsthand and Christen can only get better with time and experience.

Instead of turning her phone off, she dials Christen’s number, something she’ll vehemently deny she knows by heart.

It goes to voicemail after the fourth ring and Tobin redials, double-checking that she entered the right numbers, even though Christen’s name pops up as soon as she hits call.

Voicemail again.

Tobin thinks it’s a bit strange because Christen usually picks up and it’s barely 8:00 a.m. given their three-hour time difference. She somewhat knows Christen’s routine of waking up early to meditate, but she’s unsure of the time since Tobin usually sleeps in if she doesn’t have an early practice.

She thinks nothing of it, figuring that Christen’s probably busy and that she’ll return her call sometime later today. She decides to shoot a quick text.

_Hey Chris, I hope you’re doing okay with all this stuff going on. I just wanted to check in._

Tobin rereads the message, hoping it sounds concerned but still playing it cool, and presses send, tossing the phone somewhere on the couch.

She takes a deep breath, trying not to worry too much about the morning events.

Because if there’s one thing she’s positive of, it’s that she’ll be playing soccer. 

It’s just the _where_.

\--

The following morning, Tobin wakes up slowly with a minor headache. Nothing debilitating, thankfully.

She spent most of the day with Allie and Heather who came over to wallow away the predicament together. They brainstorm ideas of what they could do and how it affects any national team eligibility.

They gave up after an hour, opting to give it the day to settle and play video games—alcohol included. Tobin stopped Heather from making any drinks because she wanted to be functional the next day and didn’t want to end up somewhere in downtown Manhattan, doing who knows what. At one point, they started playing Mario Kart and Allie made a comment that it was technically drunk driving (she still lost, while Tobin played better the more she drank).

Her friends left late, a little after midnight, agreeing that they’ll figure it out. Heather told Tobin that she can’t do much anyways because of the injury and that this could be a blessing in disguise to prepare for summer events. Allie just smiled, because she hasn’t received an official cap for the team, but she hopes she will at some point.

Tobin reaches over, grabbing her cell phone to see what she’s missed since she fell asleep. There’s a few text messages that don’t need an immediate reply, but she notices the seven messages and the four missed calls from Christen.

She hits redial on Christen’s name, forgoing the messages, but it goes straight to voicemail. She does it again, same thing—voicemail.

Tobin opens up the the first text message, jaw dropping as she reads the words and opening the next and the next and the next until she finishes the last one.

“What the fuck,” Tobin sits up, shaking her head as she goes through the messages _again_ to understand what she’s reading.

Christen’s going to… Sweden.

It’s a lot to process, but it’s concise enough to explain in only a few messages.

Christen, like the rest of them, read the email and panicked. She called her college coach immediately, trying to figure out what the best thing to do for her would be and luckily enough, he had connections in a European league. It happened quickly, and there’s a lot more she didn’t go into. She didn’t fully think it through, but playing for Sweden’s highest division football league was her best shot at getting recognized by the national team.

Christen explains that she didn’t pick up because she was too busy, packing and gathering her clothes and whatever else—basically her whole life—with her parents that she barely had any time to check her phone. She also says that she won’t really be able to call or text as much as she usually does because of a limited international phone plan, but she’ll message her on Facebook.

Just when Tobin thought she’d be able to play against Christen again, it’s ripped out from under her feet. She wished she was there to help Christen pack or talk it out before making any haste decisions.

There would’ve been a way for Christen to stay in the country and _still_ get recognition.

Tobin groans, collapsing back against the pillows. Her phone rings and she answers without checking who it is, “What?”

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” It’s Kelley, sounding too perky for a mid-morning phone call.

“Sorry,” Tobin mutters, but figures if there’s anyone to know anything about Christen, it’d be Kelley. “Did you hear about Christen?”

“Christen? She’s going to Sweden. She called me this morning,” Kelley says casually, as if it’s not a big deal. “Kinda random, but I think it’ll be good for her.”

“Don’t you think it’s kind of…” Tobin trails off, thinking of the right word. Impulsive? No. Careless? No. “Sudden?” She decides that’s probably the best word.

“Well, yeah it is sudden. The league folding was also sudden, so you can’t really blame her for making that kind of decision when she was under the impression she was going to play here,” Kelley says diplomatically, and Tobin can sense a sudden shift in her friend’s tone. Something that borderlines protective.

“I’m not blaming her,” Tobin defends, shaking her head as she stares at the ceiling. “I just think she didn’t think it through.”

“Come on,” And Tobin swears if she could hear an eye roll through the phone, it’d sound exactly how Kelley said that. “She wants to play soccer and if she gets to, here or in Sweden, who cares? It’s a way to still be considered eligible for training camps.” Kelley says. “And, what’s the big deal? Why do you even care? It’s not like you and Christen are that close.”

_Wrong_ , Tobin thinks but doesn’t say anything because Kelley obviously doesn’t know the extent of their friendship. Kelley is probably under the impression that they’re just friends who are friends because of having a mutual friend.

It’s not like Tobin calls Christen when she has a bad game.

It’s not like Christen texts her pictures of California sunsets, since as soon as she walks out of her house, the Pacific Ocean is right there.

It’s not like Tobin listens to Christen talk about her day when she practices at the park near Manhattan Beach, learning Spanish from the people she plays pickup with.

It’s not like Christen wasn’t one of the first people she told about the surgery, and how worried she was that it wouldn’t let her play in the Olympics.

They may not have seen each other since Kelley’s birthday a couple years back, but they talk _a lot_.

Kelley doesn’t know any of this _at all_.

“She texted me, that’s all,” Tobin offers weakly and Kelley makes a noncommittal sound.

“Okay, anyways,” Kelley switches gears, not giving Tobin’s random interest in her college teammate a second thought. “I’ve figured out how we’re still going to play.”

Tobin doesn’t respond, hearing the excitement in Kelley’s voice is enough for her to know when to not speak.

“We’re going to join the semi-pro league, leaving us eligible to play for the national team,” Kelley says confidently as if it was that simple to walk-on a team with no tryouts.

It’s almost March.

Joining a team that’s about to start seems unlikely, especially if it’s a bunch of players from the league above them. Imagine playing on the team and there’s a sudden influx of players coming in to take their spot that they worked hard to earn, Tobin would be pissed. She would see it as an opportunity to work on her craft, but she’s sure other players wouldn’t share the same sentiment.

Plus, national team training camps will be starting soon for the Olympics and she’s sure there will be exceptions under their circumstances.

“Kelley,” Tobin says carefully. “You realize it’s not that easy right? There’s only a handful of teams and I’m pretty sure they won’t just take all of us.”

“I’m sure they’ll take the ones that have played on the national team,” Kelley scoffs.

“Okay Kell, you do that and tell me how it goes,” Tobin says, trying to talk Kelley down because her arrogance can sometimes be her downfall.

“Will do, I’ll be in touch. Talk to you later Tobs.”

Tobin says goodbye, reminding Kelley to be calm and not to rip anyone’s head off if they tell her no.

\--

Tobin’s able to get picked up by the New York Fury. Her doctor cleared her, but doesn’t play that much. She decides to take it easy, not willing to gamble the chances of getting hurt in a game.

Kelley, on the other hand, doesn’t, which was a blow to her ego as much as she didn’t want to admit that to Tobin (or anyone for that matter). She is allowed to train with the team in Washington D.C. thanks to Becky talking to the coach.

They have an Olympic training camp coming up in the next week and Tobin hopes that they’re both able to make the roster. She also misses some of her friends—Alex, Amy, and Lauren especially—since she hasn’t seen them for a while.

It was a light training day and Tobin just arrived back to her apartment after grabbing a bite with Allie.

She pulls out her laptop to check some of her socials. Facebook mostly since that’s how her and Christen have been communicating back and forth for the past month, trying to stay in touch as best they can.

It’s been difficult, but they’re figuring it out.

As far as Tobin can tell, Christen’s adjusting to the ‘Swedish life.’ It’s difficult with no knowledge of the language whatsoever, but she’s doing her best, embracing the culture with her teammates. The game itself as changed for her too, talking about how she’s having fun and learning a different way to play the game—more technical with more thought in what she does with the ball instead of just scoring.

Once she logs into her account, she sees a few unread messages from Christen, some from the conversation they’ve been having about a book Christen’s reading, pestering Tobin to read it. The last message makes her jump out of her seat, cheering to the empty apartment.

_I got called to the Olympic training camp, I’ll be seeing you very soon._

\--

“Good look Press!” Tobin hears one of the coaches yell from across the field as she’s getting her leg stretched from a trainer.

“She’s a helluva player,” The trainer says as she flexes Tobin’s ankle, massaging the muscle in the process. “Weird that I haven’t seen her before.”

Tobin watches Christen pass the ball to Pinoe to get it back and shoot perfectly into the upper left corner, Hope misses and curses as the ball sails over her hand.

“You know her?”

“Yeah, played against her in college. Won in the championship game a few years back,” Tobin replies, not saying anything more, as she keeps her sight on Christen.

Tobin doesn’t pay much attention to whatever the trainer’s saying, she’s focused on Christen doing the drill.

There’s something different about how she’s playing and Tobin can’t put her finger on it, but it’s obvious that there’s an improvement. She’s better even. 

It’s almost halfway through training camp and it’s been wild. A lot of it having to do with the rookies and their interactions with the veterans, the standout being Sydney Leroux.

Tobin was out when the team had Olympic Qualifiers, so she didn’t actually meet Sydney yet. She knew that she played in Los Angeles and was a force to be reckoned with on the field, and definitely off the field.

Tobin likes Sydney, especially the chaos she brings with her when they’re at the hotel, while they’re supposed to be relaxing. It’s all good fun and Tobin hasn’t laughed as hard as she had been in a while.

Christen meshes well with everyone, reserved and quiet compared to the others, but the veteran players still engage with her, telling her if she needs anything, they’re there for her. She did tell Tobin her nerves about fitting in with everyone the night before they were supposed to meet, which Tobin tried to calm her down before she let her mind run wild. It didn’t work well, but Christen still thanked Tobin for her effort.

The day all the women met at the airport, it was mayhem.

Alex jumped on Tobin. Tobin jumped on Lauren with Amy. Pinoe broke her luggage. Kelley jumped on everyone, even a stranger dressed in sweats and a hoodie, thinking she was a player.

Pure mayhem and innocent bystanders did not know what to do with at least thirty women congregating in the baggage claim area.

The best one, in Tobin’s opinion, was Christen.

Christen hadn’t told Kelley that she was invited to the training camp pool, so as soon as the ball of energy that Kelley is saw her old roommate, she practically tackled Christen onto the ground—drawing the attention of the others, as to who is getting Kelley this hyped, this soon.

After Kelley let Christen go, the striker promising that she’ll tell her all about Sweden later on, she shyly walked up to Tobin.

They hadn’t seen each other since Tobin visited for Kelley’s birthday, almost a year and a half ago. They’ve seen each other on video chats, but seeing someone on a screen doesn’t compare to seeing someone in person. 

Tobin’s breath rushed out of her body the moment her eyes land on Christen. She’s _known_ that Christen’s pretty, from the first time she saw Christen all those years ago. And now, Christen’s prettier. She can’t describe what changed, because words wouldn’t do her justice.

“Hi,” Christen said softly and Alex, who’s standing next to Tobin, snickered as she watched her teammate at a loss for words, acting like a complete fool.

Tobin felt Alex’s elbow to her side and she coughed awkwardly as she remembered to _breathe_. “Hi Chris.” She stammered out, as she opened her arms, grinning, and Christen stepped into her space, wrapping her arms around Tobin’s body.

Tobin had to remind herself to breathe again, resulting in her inhaling Christen’s shampoo that smelled a lot like vanilla. She held on tight to Christen, and she didn’t realize that she could miss someone that much until the woman was in her arms. Christen fit comfortably into the crook of her neck, holding on just as tight.

“You have to let go,” Christen said loud enough for only Tobin to hear, chuckling into her neck.

“Don’t wanna,” Tobin mumbled, making Christen’s chuckle turn into a full blown laugh against her chest. 

The moment was ruined by Kelley, who pulled Christen a bit forcefully from Tobin’s embrace as the forward stumbled into her smaller friend, wanting her attention. 

Tobin missed the feeling of Christen in her arms, but she played it off before anyone could notice. She wasn’t quick enough because Alex gave her a sympathetic smile.

Then camp started and everyone focused.

Christen’s rooming with Ali, and Tobin hasn’t really had the chance to talk to her except for the brief conversations in the morning and before they practiced. Kelley practically forces Christen to be her bus buddy, which the green-eyed woman can’t say no. The only positive in that is that Tobin sits behind them, interacting at random times when Kelley has something to tell her and Alex.

The whistle blows and coach Pia ends practice, the players dispersing to either rest or continue with light drills. The trainer finishes stretching Tobin out, telling her that she can do a bit more if she wants, but should check in before they head back to the hotel. The trainer leaves her, and Tobin slips her cleats back on, tying the laces as she hums a tune.

“Saw you drooling over Christen,” A pair of legs stand in front of her as she finishes lacing up. “Still have your little crush, I see,” There’s a mocking undertone to the statement and Tobin looks up to see a smirked planted on the freckled face. “Did you think I forgot?”

_Yes_ , Tobin thinks but doesn’t say, instead going with, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure ya don’t Tobs,” Kelley shrugs, taking the empty spot next to her. “How’s the ankle feeling?”

“It’s okay,” Tobin moves her foot up and down, a little tight but doable. “Just sore, nothing I’m too concerned about.”

Kelley nods, taking her cleats off and spreading her toes. “Good good. What’re you going to do tomorrow since it’s a rest day?”

Tobin hadn’t thought about it and honestly, she might rest in the room. She’s rooming with Lauren this leg and won’t feel obliged to do something.

“Probably nothing. Literally just want to rest.”

“Lame,” Kelley waves someone over and Tobin sees Christen, walking towards them. As soon as the forward’s within a reasonable distance, Kelley asks, “Doing anything fun tomorrow Chris?”

“Uh,” Christen pauses, stopping in front of the two. “I think I’m going shopping with Ali and Ashlyn. What about you two?”

Tobin shrugs noncommittally, and Kelley replies, “Probably hang with Alex and Sydney. There’s a sushi place Sydney wants to try.”

“That’s cool,” Christen says, playfully tapping Tobin’s cleat to get her attention. “Wanna get coffee tomorrow morning with me?”

“Sure,” Tobin smiles and Christen returns brightly.

Tobin doesn’t miss the expression Kelley sends their way. It looks like Kelley’s about to say _something_ , but a ball suddenly hits the side of Kelley’s head and her attention is drawn to Abby and a few other players laughing.

\--

“Americano right?” Christen asks as Tobin holds the door open for her to the small coffee shop a couple blocks away from their hotel.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to buy it for me,” Tobin says, following after Christen as they fall in line.

It isn’t busy. A few people spread out, but still a fair amount of empty tables.

“Let me do this okay?” Christen insists, bumping her hip against Tobin’s and the midfielder’s powerless to say no.

Tobin gives in, leaning her chin on Christen’s shoulder as they wait in line. They make small talk about how training’s going until they get to the counter to order. Tobin tries again to pay, but Christen swats her hand away.

The midfielder rolls her eyes, playfully poking Christen’s side before she walks away to find a table. Christen brings the drinks over and Tobin thanks her again. They settle into a conversation of simply, catching up with each other. It’s the first time they’re actually alone, just the two of them. As much as they talked on the phone and exchanged messages back and forth, having the person physically in their presence is so much better.

Tobin doesn’t have much to update Christen on except with how her ankle’s been feeling and the one game she played with the Fury before reporting for camp. Other than that, Tobin’s more interested about how Sweden is.

“It’s been good, really good,” Christen says as she sips on her espresso.

Christen tells how her coach has taught her _a lot_ in the short time she’s been playing with the team. Even though there’s a language barrier, she’s been having a lot of fun. Ironically, the two people she’s the closest to on the team are from Spain and instead of learning Swedish, she’s becoming more fluent in Spanish.

Tobin notices how different Christen is, the way her face lights up talking about the things happening in her life, and it makes Tobin smile as the woman in front of her talks about how one of her teammates—Olivia—makes her try a Swedish dish every Saturday.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Christen asks after noticing that Tobin’s not really saying much, except staring.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, like that,” Christen points to her face as if she could see how she looks.

“You just seem happier and it looks good on you,” Tobin says honestly because the woman in front of her isn’t the same as the one who was telling her to be careful on a cliff.

Christen shrugs, looking down shyly before bringing her gaze back to Tobin.

“Anyways, still thinking about playing for PSG?”

Tobin hadn’t put much thought into playing for the team, but with how things are going and the likelihood of coming back to a stable, functional league after the Olympics being very slim, she’s considering it.

“Maybe,” Tobin says, raising her arms up for a quick stretch before leaning onto her elbows. “I’ll see how things are after the Olympics.”

“I think you’d crush it,” Christen says thoughtfully. “Plus, I could play against you. That’d be fun.”

\--

A couple weeks after camp’s over, Tobin finds out that she makes the cut for the Olympic roster along with Kelley, Alex, Lauren, and Amy.

Christen makes it as an alternate. She’ll still be going to London, but won’t be going to any of the training camps because there’s no point in her traveling back and forth between Sweden and the United States, especially with her league in full swing. Sydney and Ali are also alternates, which will make London a lot more interesting and probably more chaotic once everyone’s together.

“Ready for this?” Kelley calls as soon as the roster’s out.

“Definitely. I want the gold, Kell.”

“We’ll get it,” Kelley claps loud enough that Tobin hear it. “Plus, I’m excited to go to London. I think one of the managers mentioned something about going on a tour where they filmed Harry Potter.”

Tobin laughs, because of all things Kelley could be concerned about with London, Harry Potter is a top priority. 

\--

As soon as they touchdown in London with training camps and send off games done, it’s a whirlwind of events that happen before opening ceremony. The alternates arrive a day after, having a total of twenty-seven women present.

The players have a week to be tourists, exploring the city among themselves and attending the planned team outings.

Tobin goes with the flow, tagging along with whoever invites her out for the day—it’s usually Lauren and Amy, though Kelley drags her to Buckingham Palace to mess with the guards. Christen hangs around with Ali and Sydney for the most part, but she grabs coffee with Tobin every morning before the rest of the team wakes up.

It becomes part of their routine, seeing each other first thing in the morning and talking about what they did the previous day. It’s refreshing. It’s a way for them to relax. It’s their time, just for them, off in their own little world without a care in the world for the events coming up.

Sure, the Facebook messages and sporadic calls for the past three months tide Tobin over, but time with Christen is so precious to her that she’d do whatever she can for another ten minutes, just to hear her talk about how Jenni taught her how to make paella or that her coach says she smiles too much when she plays—anything really.

Tobin isn’t looking forward to when she _won’t_ be able to see Christen and the ability to talk won’t be as easy as just walking to her room. She’ll take what she can get, even if that means she has to wake up early.

The day of the team outing to Harry Potter tour has Kelley the most excited, waking Tobin up by jumping on her bed since they were assigned as roommates. A little too early for Tobin, but she’s ready, Kelley making sure they won’t be late, something that Tobin is notoriously known for being. During the tour, Kelley slips on the grass and the coaches roll their eyes, shaking their head knowing that if any of the players were to get concussed _before_ a major tournament, it’d be her. Kelley walks away with just a bruised ego (and a small bump on the back of her head).

After the tour and the team returns to the hotel, and some of the players find out that their family members and friends have arrived. Tobin knows her family isn’t set to arrive until right before the first game a few days away, so she had no plans.

Until Kelley invites her.

“What’re you doing for dinner?” Kelley asks as she walks into their room.

Tobin’s sitting upright on her bed, playing a game on her Nintendo DS, not really paying attention, “Sorry what?” She looks at Kelley who sits herself at the edge of the bed.

“Dinner plans?”

“Uh, probably nothing. I’ll probably just have whatever their serving in the conference room,” Tobin shrugs, looking down at the screen flashing on her lap.

“Wanna have dinner with my family and Christen’s?”

“What?” Tobin brings her gaze back to her friend who’s waiting for her response. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“I mean I guess,” Tobin says unsurely, scratching the back of her neck because she can’t find an excuse as to why she wouldn’t go.

“Just come,” Kelley says and adds, “It’s a lot better than staying at the hotel.” 

“Okay, okay,” Tobin gives in, knowing that if she doesn’t agree, Kelley would drag her anyways.

Tobin picks up the device, ready to unpause the game, but Kelley asks her a question that completely blindsides her.

“So what’s the deal with you and Christen?”

“What?” Tobin drops the device on the bed and sits up straighter, trying to figure out where this is coming from. “What’re you talking about?”

“Tobin, don’t play dumb. I know you’ve been waking up early to get coffee with her, except for this morning. I hear you leave,” Kelley explains, leaning onto her hands. “And Cheney’s the one that told me where you’ve been cause she saw you two walking out of the hotel the other day when she came back from a run.”

“I-” Tobin hesitates, because she knew that this conversation was bound to happen, she just didn’t know _when_. “There’s nothing going on.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like there is,” Kelley says, but it’s not accusing. It’s something Tobin can’t figure out. “It may not seem like it, but I see things. I’m not blind. Christen’s usually around you if she’s not with me or Ali and I’ve noticed that if she’s standing alone, you’ll go to her.”

Tobin has to give Kelley a lot more credit because she’s more observant than she lets on. She wants Christen to feel comfortable and she thinks she could be that anchor for her. But apparently, she didn’t realize she’s already doing that. It’s happening without her even knowing.

“Can I tell you something?” Tobin says nervously because of what she’s about to say, and Kelley tilts her head, waiting for her to continue. “I like Christen.”

It’s the first time she’s actually said it out loud.

She’s known she’s felt _something_ , but didn’t think anything more except calling what she felt a passing crush that she’d get over with little to no issues.

But seeing Christen in person after a long time…

It’s different.

It wasn’t the same as the crushes she had before. She’s had her fair share of crushes on people she’s played and the people she’s met at camp; some went away naturally, some took a little longer to get over, as others resulted in hooking up to a degree.

Tobin didn’t know she had actual feelings for Christen until she hugged her at the training camp. It felt like home the second she had Christen in her arms, all traces of anxiousness and doubt melted away.

It felt _right_ , as clichéd as that sounds.

The moment she tried to deny what she felt was the moment she realized she couldn’t fathom losing something that wasn’t hers to begin with, but she accepted this fate, making the complicated choice that she’d push what she felt aside to be everything except the one thing she wanted most.

Kelley doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Tobin sees the wheels turning in her friend’s head.

“You like Christen,” Kelley repeats slowly, Tobin nodding her head and she feels like confirming how she feels makes it more real than when she said it not less than ten seconds ago. “Okay, what’re you going to do about it?”

“Nothing?” Tobin offers weakly, because she didn’t expect this calm of a reaction out of Kelley nor did she think past how she felt.

“What the fuck, why not?”

It feels a lot like déjà vu, taking her back to when she told Alex.

“Let me see,” Tobin says thoughtfully, bringing a finger to her chin. “We literally live on separate continents. That’s it. That’s really it.” She adds, “Also, we don’t know if she likes me like that.”

“You sound like a middle schooler, woman up and just tell her how you feel, you’d be surprised,” Kelley responds, slapping her ankle with a little more force intended.

“Do you know something?” Tobin asks, suspicious of Kelley’s sudden support in the matter.

“I know nothing,” Kelley raises her hands up in defense. “Swears. I don’t force Christen to talk about things, especially if it’s about relationships. She’ll come to me about that stuff on her own.”

“I thought you’d be a little more protective of her,” Tobin says honestly because what she imagined if she ever told Kelley wasn’t this.

“Oh I am,” Kelley acknowledges. “I see how you look at her and how she _may_ look at you. It’s subtle and you’d have to be paying attention to notice, but there’s something there. But I know if there’s anyone that’d treat Christen the way she deserves, it’d be you, even if you try to come off as a player.”

“Hey,” Tobin grumbles. “I’m not a player.”

“Please,” Kelley scoffs, rolling her eyes. “The amount of stories I’ve heard about how you’d hook up with girls from the other team in college is beyond me because one, I didn’t ask to hear it and two, we both know I’m the one that’s the real player. Also, I know your track record. People talk Tobin, it’s normal. Heard you’re a good time, might have to take—”

Tobin throws a pillow at Kelley before she could finish the sentence.

“Hey what the fuck!” Kelley throws it back, hitting Tobin square in the chest.

“Please don’t ever finish that sentence,” Tobin groans.

“Whatever, I’m just saying. You’re hot. I’m hot. It’s only a matter of time, unless you’re with Christen then I’ll be respectful,” Kelley shrugs indifferently, checking the time on her watch. “Shit, get changed. We’re going to be late and I’m putting the blame on you if we are!”

\--

“What’s going on?”

“What’s your problem?”

Lauren and Amy ask simultaneously as they walk up to her, Tobin shakes her head, calling for the ball without giving her friends a second glance.

“Seriously,” Lauren tugs on Tobin’s arm as soon as one of the trainers pass her the ball. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Tobin says flatly as she kicks the ball back and forth between her feet. One of the trainers blows the whistle and she’s off, kicking the ball, but it sails over the goal _again_.

“Tobin,” Amy pulls her off to the side while the rest of the team gets ready for the keep away drill. “What’s going on with you? You’re starting today and the way you’re acting might make coach change her mind.”

It’s the first game of the Olympics, but Tobin’s distracted. It’s obvious if the person knows Tobin, evident by the way she’s warming up—shots wild, passes completely off the mark—and if they didn’t know Tobin, it’d look like it was nerves.

“Nothing,” Tobin says sharply, slipping on the yellow pinny and Amy’s still staring at her, waiting for her to say what’s pissing her off.

It’s nothing, _really_.

Tobin’s overreacting.

She has no right to feel what she’s feeling.

It started the night Tobin went to dinner with O’Hara and Press clans.

First off, Tobin was nervous, even though she wasn’t sure why. It was apparent as soon as they walked into the restaurant. It wasn’t Kelley’s family, but Christen’s family had the midfielder clamming up when they sat down at the table, which was unlike her because she enjoys meeting her teammates’ family and she’d like to think they like her too.

Tobin was awkward to the point where Kelley kicked her in the shin after she stuttered through an introduction with Christen’s parents and sisters, giving her a look that said, _what the hell’s wrong?_

Dinner went well.

Christen sat next to Tobin, which wasn’t helping her nerves causing the midfielder to bounce her leg up and down. The younger girl placed her hand on the anxious thigh, rubbing the spot until Tobin calmed down.

(The only time Christen’s hand left Tobin’s leg was when they were eating.)

Christen’s mother, Stacy, asked Tobin questions about her life and where she’s from. Her father, Cody, made the small comment of, “ _Didn’t you play on UNC and beat the girls a few years back?_ ” Tobin nearly spit her drink out, but Christen squeezed her leg, reassuring her he was only joking. 

It wasn’t until after the dessert where Christen practically squealed, jumping out of her seat and rushing to the good-looking young man walking towards their table.

His name was Nima, her childhood friend who just flew in, but to Tobin, it didn’t look like friends. There was something about the way they interacted—the way they leaned into each other, the casual arm slung over her shoulder, the smile plastered on Christen’s face as Nima spoke about how he almost missed the flight because he helped an elderly lady to her gate—that made Tobin believe they were a little more than friends.

Tobin tried, really tried, to hide her how mood changing, but Kelley picked up on it quickly, sending her concerned glances while the parents were settling the bill. Tobin just shook her head, ready to leave as soon as she could.

Once they finished at the restaurant, Tyler wanted to go to a nearby pub saying that was where J.K. Rowling started writing the infamous series, but Christen rolled her eyes, making the remark that her older sister just wanted to drink. Everyone agreed to go, except Tobin, making a half-ass excuse saying she wanted to rest.

Christen tried convincing her to go (once she finally peeled herself from Nima’s side), but Tobin was adamant, saying that she was tired from the day. Christen didn’t look like she believed her because she knew how much of night owl Tobin is, but let it go, not forcing the issue.

Kelley offered to walk back with her, but Tobin said, “It’s cool Kell. Your family’s here, so just spend time with them. I’ll see you in the morning.” She wanted to protest, but read Tobin’s body language to not pressure her because she understood how Tobin can get if she’s backed into a wall.

Secondly, Christen bailed on their morning coffee dates for three days. If it was anyone else, Tobin wouldn’t have cared and just slept in, but because it was Christen, she took it harder than expected.

Though, after opening ceremonies, Christen wanted to get coffee before the first game, but Tobin, as stubborn (albeit childish) as she was, blew her off saying that she had breakfast plans with her sisters.

Lastly, Kelley was being a pain in her ass, but had every right to be because she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out what the hell Tobin’s problem was. She tried talking to her about it the morning after the dinner, but Tobin wouldn’t budge, staying quiet when Christen’s name was brought up in conversation or how Christen’s parents liked her, even though she thought she was being a little off.

Any moment alone that Kelley had with Tobin, she kept asking.

Tobin didn’t want to talk about it because she didn’t understand what she was feeling.

She couldn’t put it into words.

It wasn’t jealousy, at least she didn’t think it was, because she thought that jealousy was an emotion when it had to do with something that was _yours_ , and Christen wasn’t hers in any way. She’d never experience jealousy with a person.

Maybe pining for something that she wanted?

That sounded more accurate.

The last thing Kelley said to Tobin this morning before they got onto the bus for their first game against Spain was, “Whatever the fuck is going on with you, get your head out of your ass and focus on the game.”

“Seriously, I’m good,” Tobin says after Amy tugs on her pinny before it’s their turn in the drill.

“Okay,” Amy says, not believing her one bit as she watches Tobin step in the drill, kicking the ball to Alex.

\--

They win.

2-1.

One down, five to go.

The team’s excited, clapping as they walk into the locker room.

Tobin’s smiling as the other players pat her on the back. All the frustration (and whatever else) she felt before the game was left on the field, resulting in her scoring a goal and assisting on the other.

She had a great game.

Her smile disappears when she sees Christen leaning against the wall, talking to Ali, and Lauren, who’s arm is slung over her shoulder, notices her friend’s body stiffen.

“Tobin?” Lauren says softly, but Tobin shrugs her arm off, walking faster to avoid talking with Christen.

But Tobin can’t stay away from Christen forever, and the forward steps in front of her, blocking her path, with a huge smile, unaware of what she’s been going on.

“Good game Tob—” Christen doesn’t finish her sentence cause Tobin sidesteps her, walking past the girl who’s taken aback by what just happened.

Tobin keeps walking, not looking back, but she does hear Christen ask Kelley, _Did I do something wrong?_

Tobin’s turned around so fast before she can open the locker room door to Kelley, and she didn’t want to make a scene, especially with the team filing in.

“What the _fuck’s_ your problem?” Kelley’s seething. Tobin’s only seen her friend like this, maybe, a handful of times. Kelley’s a maniac on the field, but off the field, she’s pretty even tempered and it takes _a lot_ to piss her off.

Tobin’s done exactly that.

“Nothing,” Tobin says, avoiding the heated glare from the small woman in front of her while the rest of the team slows to see what’s going on.

Alex moves the two out of the way while Lauren guides everyone inside of the locker room, starting a poor attempt at a cheer to distract them. It works, surprisingly. As Abby begins chanting _oosa oosa._

“You’re kidding right? You’ve been acting weird since that dinner and I can’t fucking figure out why,” Kelley says evenly, but Tobin’s aware that it’s a matter of seconds before Kelley’s voice raises.

Tobin looks past her to see Christen staring at them, lip slightly trembling, and Kelley glances back and it clicks once she brings her gaze back to Tobin.

“Don’t tell me this is about fucking Nima.”

Tobin’s quiet, looking down, refusing to show what she’s feeling and the guilt’s slightly building especially with Christen right there.

“You’re a fucking child, I swear,” Kelley sighs, closing her eyes as she takes a deep breath. Turning around, “Christen, can you come here please?”

Christen timidly walks over, stopping a considerable distance and Tobin’s still looking down.

“I’m going to leave you two to talk,” Kelley says, pulling Alex into the locker room before Tobin can interject, mumbling, _She’s been driving me fucking crazy_ and Alex says something Tobin can’t hear, but the freckled face girl says exasperatedly, _Fucking tell me about it_.

They’re left in the empty hallway,

“Hi…” Christen says carefully.

Tobin finally looks up, and she’s met with piercing green eyes fixed on hers. “Hi.” 

“Good game,” Christen says again.

“Thanks,” Tobin replies, not offering anything more, killing the conversation.

They’ve never had _this_.

Awkwardness.

They’ve had silence moments, but it’s always been comfortable.

It’s making Tobin’s skin crawl with Christen staring intensely and Tobin doing everything to _not_ talk about what’s bothering her.

(Though, she knows that all her problems would be solved if she’d just talk to the woman in front of her.)

“Did…” Christen starts after a moment. “I do something?”

“No,” Tobin says, but her voice shakes, looking down, and Christen takes a step forward, crowding Tobin’s space.

“What did I do?” Christen asks softly, bringing a fingertip to Tobin’s chin, tilting the midfielder’s head up.

“Are you dating Nima?”

Christen’s hand drops, and there’s an expression on her face that Tobin witnesses. It starts off as confusion then transitions to understanding. A small smile tugs on the corner of Christen’s mouth and she shakes her head, “I’m not.”

Relief _floods_ Tobin’s body and the tension in her shoulders releases, and Christen rolls her eyes as if Tobin’s reaction was the one she expected because she was being _that_ obvious about what was bothering her just by answering that one question.

“Are you sure?” Tobin has to ask for her own sanity.

She couldn’t have just been imagining what she saw because it looked like they were a couple in a long-term relationship, that Tobin refuses to acknowledge the not-jealousy she felt because she’ll swear up and down that it wasn’t that.

“Yes,” Christen says and Tobin can tell that it’s the truth.

“Okay,” Tobin leaves it at that, not wanting to ask anymore.

At least not yet. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Christen smiles, pulling Tobin into a hug and she easily returns the hug, wrapping her arms around the girl tightly.

\--

“Holy shit,” Tobin whispers as the final whistle blows, signaling the end of the game.

The _final_ game of the Olympics.

They won.

They got the fucking gold.

Even sweeter because they won against Japan, avenging the loss from the year before.

“Dude!” Kelley yells and jumps on her, followed by Alex then Cheney, then… the whole team’s dog piling on her.

\--

“Where you at?” Tobin asks as soon as Christen greets her on the phone.

“Just got to the pub,” Christen answers a little loudly to speak over the noise of the crowd. “I’m with Ali and Sydney, we’re waiting for everyone else to show up. Where are you guys?”

“Kelley’s almost done getting ready and then we’ll head over,” Tobin says, sitting on the edge of the bed as she watches Kelley carefully wrap the gold medal in her game worn jersey.

“Okay, see you in a bit,” Christen says and Tobin reminds her to be careful until she gets there, even though she’s with their friends.

“You know,” Kelley says as she places her jersey in her luggage, “I wish you’d talk to me the way you talk to her.”

Tobin nods, not paying that much attention to what Kelley’s saying as she smiles at the picture Christen sent.

It’s of them.

Lauren took it when the team met the alternates in the locker room. Tobin has the gold medal in between her teeth while Christen’s arms are wrapped around her waist, smiles so big with Alex and Kelley posing in the background.

“Dude,” Kelley’s in front of her and she tears her attention away from her phone to see Kelley smiling brightly. “You’ve got it so bad. I’m glad you’re out of your little mood.”

It’s true.

Tobin’s been in better mood, playing better too, but she’s not going to attribute that to Christen.

Kelley made one last attempt to get Tobin to talk about what set her off, even if she had a pretty good idea what it was. She wanted Tobin say it out loud, but the midfielder, as hardheaded as she was, refused to say any more on the matter except for, “ _We’re good_.”

Christen and Tobin went back to their coffee dates every morning as if there was nothing ever wrong. Christen did bring up Nima at one point, explaining how he’s her childhood best friend that they have dated before, more out of obligation, feeling that they owed it to themselves to try dating. It didn’t work out, breaking up before they went their separate ways for college and still remain friends.

Tobin wants to believe that Christen said all that to ease her mind, but she didn’t ask for any further explanation.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tobin retorts and Kelley’s grin gets wider.

“Sure Tobs,” Kelley flicks her on the head before quickly stepping back. “Let’s go celebrate!”

\--

The two roommates were the last ones to arrive. It was Kelley’s doing because as they were walking, a candy store popped out to her and she wanted peach rings. Tobin followed her hyperactive friend because she didn’t want Kelley to buy more candy than necessary. Kelly’s hyper as is, fueling her with more sugar is asking for trouble.

“Who’s that Christen’s talking to?” Kelley points across the room as soon as they step into the pub.

Tobin leans to the side as she looks in the general direction and notices Christen talking to someone that she doesn’t recognize. Ali and Sydney aren’t anywhere to be found.

“Dunno, I’m gonna find out though.”

As Tobin leaves Kelley, who’s shaking her head and rolling her eyes at how Tobin acts around the green-eyed girl, and approaches Christen, she sees the dark neatly-made bun on the who’s she talking to. She can’t make out who it is, but there’s something familiar about the woman.

Christen smiles as soon as Tobin’s within a few feet of her, and Tobin slows when she sees the woman turn around. She knows this woman, throwing an arm over Christen’s shoulder as she stands next her.

“Lucy, hi.”

“Tobin, what a surprise,” Lucy greets, smirking at the not-so-subtle gesture by her former teammate.

Lucy Bronze.

The defender her university coach brought over from England to play for a season, Tobin’s last season.

Tobin was cordial with Lucy. They weren’t the best of friends, but they spoke on occasion. Lucy is younger by Tobin by a few years, so she was a little more reserve and didn’t say much. Though, there was some drama between the two players over a girl.

They were young.

It was stupid.

It was unnecessary.

It may have been the closest thing to a relationship, but she doesn’t like to think about that a lot.

It happened.

It’s over.

Tobin’s not the relationship type anyways.

Exactly why Lucy’s still smirking.

“You two know each other?” Christen looks back and forth between the two women, who are apparently sizing the other up.

“Yeah,” Tobin says, glancing down at the woman wrapped in her arm. “We played on UNC together. She was there the year we beat Stanford.” She smirks as Christen’s eyes widen.

“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Christen says, mildly surprise, looking at Lucy who’s laughing.

“I didn’t think that was relevant,” Lucy shrugs, taking a sip of her drink.

“I would think you’d mention you played soccer when I told you I was an alternate for the United States team,” Christen shakes her head and sighs, tugging at Tobin’s jacket. “I’m going to use the restroom, I see Kelley waving us over from across the bar. I’ll meet you there.”

Sure enough, Tobin scans the room and there’s Kelley jumping excitedly with a bartender laying out shot glasses in front of her with Abby and Pinoe behind her.

“Okay,” Tobin nods. “I’ll close your tab.”

Tobin unwraps her arm as Christen hops off the bar stool, doing a little stretch before she places a brief kiss on Tobin’s cheek. The midfielder feels her face heat up, blushing at the action.

“It was nice meeting you Lucy, I’m sure I’ll see you again,” Christen says politely.

“I’m sure I will,” Lucy tips her glass to Christen, smiling.

Christen walks away from the former teammates, leaving them alone while Tobin calls one of the bartenders over.

“So,” Lucy says casually after the bartender leaves to get Christen’s tab. “Is Christen your girlfriend?”

It’s not mocking or rude, it seems to come from genuine curiosity that Tobin finds herself answering, “No. She’s not.”

“Do you want her to be?”

“I don’t know,” Tobin says, sitting on the empty stool.

“I’d say she wants to date you,” Lucy says nonchalantly, shrugging as she points to her drink for another glass as the bartender returns with Christen’s receipt.

“What gives you that impression?”

“She spoke about you so highly and how she was proud of you. Granted as soon as she said Tobin, I sort of knew who she was talking about because there aren’t that many people in the world with your name, nor do they play soccer.”

Tobin doesn’t respond, taking what Lucy’s saying with a grain of salt, but she second guesses her initial thought because there’s nothing for Lucy to gain saying this.

“Anywho,” Lucy stands with her drink refilled. “It was nice seeing you Tobin. Keep in touch. I’m sure our paths will cross again. Congrats on the gold.”

With that Lucy walks over to a group of girls and Tobin sighs, not exactly what to do with the information given to her. Lucy’s observant, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to suddenly be girlfriends with Christen.

They’re _friends._

\--

Friends who won’t leave the other’s side.

Friends who have to be in some sort of physical contact, whether it’s their knees or elbows (maybe even shoulders too as they lean into the other to hear across the table).

Friends who start off by sharing a chair, but end up with one sitting comfortably on their other’s lap.

Friends who are walking back to the hotel, by themselves, while the rest of the team didn’t notice they left (sans one person, but didn’t say anything as she watched them walk out).

Friends whose hands keep brushing against each other, neither making a move to interlace their fingers. 

It was a night of celebration and aside from winning games, the team knows how to celebrate.

Tobin told herself before they left the hotel that she wouldn’t get drunk, no matter how many shots Kelley or Alex shoved in front of her. She didn’t want to deal with a hangover. Once she hit her three shot max, she nursed a light beer for the rest of the night.

Christen was already two cocktails in when Tobin found her with Lucy, and she mentioned that they were pretty strong when Kelley distributed the first round of shots. After the second shot, Christen switched to water, refusing to be pressured into drinking when she had nothing to celebrate. She didn’t actually win. She’s not on the team. She was more moral support than a player, but still enjoyed the experience nonetheless.

Christen’s hand bumps against Tobin’s again, and the midfielder gently grabs her hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, giving a little squeeze as they continue walking. Christen stiffens at the squeeze, but relaxes after a second, squeezing back. Tobin glances down at their hands, noticing Christen doing the same. The two make eye contact and Tobin bashfully looks to the street, bringing her other hand to scratch the back of her neck.

They spend the rest of the walk in silence, the sounds being the noise of the light traffic on the street and the conversations of the people they pass by, and Tobin swinging their arms like a little kid.

“Wanna watch a movie before bed?” Christen suggests as they wait for their elevator to arrive.

“Sure,” Tobin tugs on Christen’s hand, separating their hands as she wraps her arms around Christen’s shoulders, holding her close against her body.

Tobin doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or fatigue setting in that’s making her be this affectionate with Christen, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t know the next time she’ll see Christen, and she enjoys this closeness with Christen.

“My room or your room?” Christen asks once they step into the elevator, deciding which floor they should go to.

“Mine,” Tobin answers, arms loosely around her. “Kelley said something about crashing with Alex before we left.”

They pile into Tobin’s room, air conditioning blasting, and the midfielder offers clothes for Christen to get more comfortable in and to keep warm, which she graciously accepts. Tobin leaves her to change while she changes in the bathroom, switching from contacts to her thick framed glasses.

When Tobin walks back out, Christen’s neatly folding her clothes, setting them off to the side.

Tobin nearly swoons at how _soft_ Christen looks in one of her oversized shirts and practice shorts, that she sighs dreamily, making the younger girl turn around and smiles once she sees Tobin.

“I didn’t know you wear glasses.”

Tobin tosses her clothes on her luggage and stands in front of Christen. “Because you haven’t roomed with me before. I’m always wearing contacts, my eyesight’s pretty bad.”

“Cute,” Christen says cheekily.

They settle into Tobin’s bed, slipping under the covers with a respectable distance between them. Tobin turns on the television, flipping through the channels to find a movie. “What do you feel like watching?”

Christen shrugs, scooting closer to Tobin to the point where she rests her head against Tobin’s shoulder.

“Harry Potter?”

“Seriously? Because we’re in London you want to watch Harry Potter?” Christen lifts her head up and rolls her eyes.

“Yes,” Tobin says seriously, taking slight offense at her reaction. “It’s part 2!”

“Okay fine,” Christen relents, shaking her head as she finds her spot again on Tobin’s shoulder.

“Come here, ya grump,” Tobin raises her arm, pulling Christen into her side.

“I’m not grumpy, you’re grumpy,” Christen mutters as the movie starts to play, relaxing into Tobin’s body.

As they watch the movie, Tobin hopes Christen can’t hear how fast her heart’s beating with her head laying against her chest.

Her thoughts are racing, going a mile a minute as she actually takes this time to reflect on tonight’s events.

She’s seen this movie over half a dozen times, so it’s not like she doesn’t know what happens. (She’s read the books too.)

Tobin’s affectionate with people, but she’s never been as affectionate with someone as she was with Christen. The team gave them an odd look after Tobin paid the tab and Christen’s arm was around her waist—no one said anything, but they either looked confused or knew it all along (more the latter).

She found herself next to Christen without her realizing until Alex teased Tobin about where Christen was and the midfielder kept looking around.

They always had to be touching. She didn’t look into it at the time, but the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes just how much their bodies were close. Christen ended up using Tobin’s lap as a seat because sharing a chair got too uncomfortable. Tobin offered to move, but Christen wouldn’t let her.

They decided to leave because it was becoming too much the alarming rate at how fast the team consumed alcohol.

It’s messing with Tobin’s head, thinking about _this_ , because she’s not sure what they’re doing and what it means.

“Can I ask you something?” Christen’s voice filters through, breaking Tobin out of her thoughts.

“Of course,” Tobin replies, rubbing her hand soothingly along the expanse of Christen’s back.

“Were you jealous of Nima?”

_Uh_ —not the question Tobin expected.

“It’s been bothering me since the first game and I couldn’t figure out why you acted the way you did,” Christen continues. “Until you asked me if I was dating Nima.”

“I…” Tobin pauses and Christen lifts her head, pushing herself up to look directly at her instead of the television screen. “I don’t know.”

“Tobin, it’s okay if you were. I don’t understand you, but I want to,” Christen says earnestly that Tobin doesn’t know how watching Harry Potter turned into wanting to tell the woman next to her _everything_.

“Yes,” Tobin admits, looking away. “I was.”

“Why?” Christen prods, nudging her leg.

“Chris, I think you know why,” Tobin says quietly, still looking at everything in the room except Christen.

“I don’t. I don’t know what this is, but I like it.”

Tobin brings her gaze to Christen and her chest swells with affection by how Christen’s looking at her.

It’s not judging. It’s not accusing. It’s gentle. It’s unguarded.

Words don’t have to be said, but whatever Tobin feels, Christen feels it too.

Tobin watches the way Christen’s eyes dart around, and even in the dimness of the room, the way the television brightness refracts light, she’s mesmerized. She’s aware of the physical attributes of Christen and how every single one affects her, but something about her eyes makes her freeze and she could spend minutes, hours, days even, staring at them, knowing words aren’t enough.

Tobin doesn’t realize Christen’s leaning forward until their noses touch, and Tobin slowly brings her hand up, lightly brushing Christen’s cheek and notices her shiver at the touch. She trails her hand down her neck, and Christen’s breath hitches as Tobin gently pulls her forward.

“If you want me to stop, tell me now,” Tobin whispers as their lips graze.

Christen shakes her head, voice thick with desire, “Please don’t,” bringing their lips together.

Tobin kisses her gently, carefully, _slowly_ because she wants this to last.

She doesn’t know when she’s going to do this again.

If there is a next time. 

Tobin drops her hand, reaching behind Christen to pull her onto her lap, keeping her arms tight around her body as Christen moans lowly into her mouth as soft hands find their way around her neck, pulling their bodies closer. Their mouths work against the other, kissing like they’ve been doing this all along.

Tobin kisses her how she wanted to be kissed, like no one could ever compare, soft and chaste and hot and breathy, swallowing the moans when Christen suddenly switches gears, lips moving firmer, more determined, more purposeful that Tobin pulls back.

She takes in the woman in her arms, dazed and confused and unsure why things stopped.

“What? What’s wrong?” Christen’s voice comes out hoarse and it draws Tobin’s breath out of her lungs at the undeniable realization at how much she _wants_ Christen.

So much more than just for tonight.

Wants to hold her hand as they walk down the street.

Wants to practice drills, maybe even throw a nutmeg in here and there.

Wants to tell her why she’s never been in a relationship, not because she doesn’t think she could do it, but because she never met someone who rattles her very core to be better and do better just because.

Wants to experience _this_ , loving somebody, wanting them more than anything—it’s new, it’s scary, and it’s risky.

“I—nothing’s wrong,” Her voice sounds rough in her ears and she shakes her head, trying to calm down. “I promise. Are you sure?”

“Tobin,” Christen murmurs, briefly kissing her as hands play with the hair along her nape. “Yes. If you don’t want this, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I want you.”

“Then show me.”

\--

The door slams shut, jolting Tobin awake and the body wrapped in her moves slightly, getting more comfortable as she settles into her side. 

“Well good morning.”

_Kelley_.

“I have a shit hangover,” Her teammate says groggily, bouncing on the made bed and rustling the covers as she slides under. “You better be clothed or not here when I wake up.”

Christen stirs, hugging Tobin tightly as she slowly raises her head to Kelley covering her face with a pillow. She looks at Tobin and places a light kiss on her jaw, mumbling, “Morning.”

Tobin smiles, kissing Christen’s forehead sweetly as the forward rests her head in the crook of Tobin’s neck. “Morning. Glad you came up with the idea of throwing clothes on.”

“Obviously,” Christen says, the traces of sleep still evident in her voice. “When you’ve lived with Kelley, you just know.”

“I can hear you,” Kelley grumbles under the pillow.

Tobin chuckles light, apologizing and pulls Christen into her more (if that’s even possible), glancing at the bedside clock. “Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

Christen slides her leg in between hers as she cuddles closer, and Tobin couldn’t be happier.

\--

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Kelley pats Tobin’s back as they’re waiting in the hotel lobby.

Tobin’s _not_ okay.

The second time she woke up this morning, Christen wasn’t there.

Christen had to pack, or at least finish up packing. She sent a message to Tobin explaining where she went so she wouldn’t be surprised when she woke up. She sent another message saying that she tried to wake her up, but she was out cold.

Tobin should understand, but she believed Christen should’ve tried harder to wake her up.

Last night was special, and Tobin hasn’t stopped thinking about it since she woke up. She could go on and on about what happened (in great detail, mind you) and how it made her feel, but she wants to keep that between them.

Only them because they know what they are and they know what they’re not.

Their one night together will mean more to them than anything, but it can’t be anything more than that—one night, and one night only.

Kelley kicks her and Tobin looks up, mood shifting as she stands up as soon as she sees Christen walking toward them, a shy smile playing on her lips.

“Don’t be an ass,” Kelley mutters, walking away to leave them alone to talk.

“Hi,” Christen says shyly.

“Hi,” Tobin sighs dreamily, taking her in, noticing how she’s absolutely glowing and taking all the credit for how it. “How are you?”

“Good, really good,” Christen smiles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “How about you?”

“Great,” She replies, wanting nothing more to pull her close, but stops herself from reaching out. 

They stare at each other for a moment before they burst out in laughter, eyes crinkling, smiling widely, at how so much has changed no less than twelve hours ago, but still very much the same.

“Ready to go back stateside?” Christen asks after the laughing dies down.

“I think so. I got this heavy thing in my bag that needs to hang somewhere,” Tobin pats on her bag strap and Christen rolls her eyes. “What about you? Ready to go back to the land of Ikea?”

“Yeah. I miss playing, so it’ll be nice to get back into the grove of things.” Christen shrugs and she hears someone call her name, telling her that her car has arrived to take her to the airport.

Tobin’s stomach drops because she thought she’d have more time, squeeze in a quick coffee run or grab a sandwich from the convenience store or _anything_.

“I guess this is it,” Christen says softly.

“I guess so,” Tobin looks away, because there’s a chance she won’t be able to hold back the tears that are forming.

“Hey,” Christen’s finger tilts her chin up to green-eyes. “I’ll see you again, you know this right? This isn’t the last time I’ll see you. I’m going to play on the national team one day and we’re going to play together.”

“I know, I know,” Tobin says more to herself than to Christen. “I—I just wish…”

“I know,” Christen cuts off before she could finish the sentence. “Just give me a hug and message me when you get back home okay?”

Tobin immediately wraps her arms around Christen, pulling her body close to hers and the forward’s arms instinctively go around her shoulders.

Flashbacks of their night together appear in Tobin’s mind, having her body against hers—the softness of her skin, the sounds of her moans, the weight of her body on top of hers, all of it.

“I’m so proud of you,” Christen mumbles quietly against her neck and Tobin squeezes tighter.

Tobin’s reluctant to let go, but the manager calls for Christen again, and she has to, no matter how much she doesn’t want to. They say goodbye again, Tobin promising she’ll message her as she messages her when she gets back to her apartment, before Christen has to really leave, walking towards the exit while saying bye to the rest of the players as she leaves.

“You okay?” Lauren asks.

“Yeah,” Tobin smiles as she watches Christen try walk out of the hotel, but Kelley’s pulling on her luggage, almost winning by the looks of it. 

“She’s special,” Lauren states simply and Tobin’s still watching the former roommates doing a tug of war. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“I’d say so.”

\--

It’s a chilly Thursday night in the middle of November. Kelley’s been staying with Tobin for the past couple weeks, hanging out as they wind down from the year before they go their separate ways for Thanksgiving. Alex visited a week before, not understanding why they couldn’t make their way to the west coast where it was warm and sunny instead of dealing with the crisp coolness of an east coast fall.

“Cool, thanks. I’ll be on the lookout for the email,” Tobin says, ending the call with her manager.

“So? What’s the word?” Kelley asks, sitting down on the couch and kicking her feet onto the coffee table.

“Looks like I’ll be in France at the start of the new year.”

“That’s great,” Kelley smacks Tobin on the back approvingly. “You sure you just don’t want to play here? The league being formed seems to have a lot of promise.”

“I think so, it’d be good for me you know? Get a new perspective on the game.”

“I understand that, it’ll be interesting how the national players are allocated, or whatever. Still complicated for me to understand,” Kelley scratches her head.

“I know, I’ve tried to explain it to you since you got Sky Blue,” Tobin rolls her eyes as Kelley’s face contorts in confusion.

“So if you come back from overseas, how does that work?”

“I think it has to do with whatever team has the most allocation money to give, or something like that. I don’t know, I haven’t looked into that a lot since I’ll be in Europe,” Tobin shrugs indifferently because that’s the least of her worries right now.

“Fair enough,” Kelley says, letting the topic go (for now, because she’ll ask Tobin something about it later). “Anyways, you tell Christen yet?”

Tobin forces a cough out, hoping to avoid answering the question, but Kelley frowns when she doesn’t get a reply.

“You didn’t.”

“I don’t see why I’d have to,” Tobin says nonchalantly, when she has every reason to tell Christen that she’ll be close by.

“You’ll be closer,” Kelley voices her exact thoughts. 

“We will be, but we’re still playing in two different leagues,” Tobin says. She’s thought about that, but it doesn’t change what can happen. “I’ll tell her eventually, once it’s finalized.”

“It pretty much is,” Kelley rolls her eyes. “I have to ask because you didn’t talk much about what happened, but where does it leave you two?”

Tobin and Christen still talk as if that night didn’t happen, exchanging messages about their lives—the typical stuff. They don’t mention it nor would Tobin know how to organically bring that up in a conversation.

(Probably something like, _Hey, remember that night we saw each other naked? Good times, you got a great butt too_ , but Tobin would absolutely be horrified if she ever said that.)

She thought about talking to Christen about it, but she didn’t want to be _that_ person who has dissect every action, figuring out what it means. It was just for the night and that’s what it will be, one fun night between two friends.

“Friends,” Tobin shrugs, the word leaving her mouth bitterly, but doesn’t let it show. “You’ve been there, hooked up with a teammate, acted like it didn’t happen, never talk about it again, move on.”

“But Tobin, you told me at the beginning of the Olympics you had real feelings for her, the could be big love kind. Don’t tell me that disappeared like that.”

The distance dulls Tobin’s feelings for the forward, but it doesn’t make it go away. It’s still there in the background, but she’s accepted that she’ll always have _that_. She can run through different scenarios, but it’s all a _what if_.

What if the league didn’t fold?

What if an ocean didn’t separate them?

What if. What if. _What if._

“I know Kell, and I have feelings for her yes. I think when it boils down to it, it’ll be there and I’m not saying that what happened wasn’t important, because it was, even if we don’t acknowledge it. She knows and I know, and that’s what matters. I think you understand that.”

“Okay okay,” Kelley says, easing off the topic before pulling Tobin into a headlock. “Look at our little Toby, growing up and stuff.”

“Fuck off,” Tobin wrestles, pushing Kelley away after she lets go, laughing in the process.

“Say _voulez-vous coucher avec moi_ to the French girls and see what they say to you.”

“What does that mean?” Tobin asks, puzzled because that phrase sounds familiar.

“It means, ‘would you like to sleep with me,’ in the biblical sense, you know, sex.”

Tobin grabs a couch pillow, whacking Kelley on the face who lets out a dramatic _ow!_ as she rubs her face.

She lets her friend be a baby as she contemplates the coming months, uncomfortable with the unknown, but comfortable enough that she’s prepared for anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you've made it to the end, congrats! 
> 
> i kinda fell off towards the very end, unsure of how to end it properly, but there was also a lot of things that happened. if you have any questions about clarifying things, let me know cause i feel like there were parts where i didn't write well. 
> 
> i'm going to take a little break for the next couple days or so from writing and start to play animal crossing (maybe, i get easily distracted). 
> 
> i hope everyone's staying safe and abiding by your jurisdiction, and please, _please_ if you're going to the store or wherever, be kind. i heard someone say at target earlier this week, 'i'll beat your fucking ass' so let's try not to do that. 
> 
> but, thank you lots for reading. i'll see you in the next chapter! 
> 
> (be safe!!)


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